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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/5674-0.txt b/5674-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b275383 --- /dev/null +++ b/5674-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7987 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Hector’s Inheritance, by Horatio Alger + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Hector’s Inheritance + or The Boys of Smith Institute + +Author: Horatio Alger + +Release Date: May, 2004 [EBook #5674] +Last Updated: September 18, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HECTOR’S INHERITANCE *** + + + + +Produced by Carrie Fellman + + + + + +HECTOR’S INHERITANCE + +OR + +THE BOYS OF SMITH INSTITUTE + + +By Horatio Alger, Jr. + +Author of “Eric Train Boy” “Young Acrobat,” “Only an Irish Boy,” “Bound +to Rise,” “The Young Outlaw,” “Driven from Home” etc. + +NEW YORK + + + + + +HECTOR’S INHERITANCE. + + + + +CHAPTER I. MR. ROSCOE RECEIVES TWO LETTERS. + + + +Mr. Roscoe rang the bell, and, in answer, a servant entered the library, +where he sat before a large and commodious desk. + +“Has the mail yet arrived?” he asked. + +“Yes, sir; John has just come back from the village.” + +“Go at once and bring me the letters and papers, if there are any.” + +John bowed and withdrew. + +Mr. Roscoe walked to the window, and looked thoughtfully out upon a +smooth, luxuriant lawn and an avenue of magnificent trees, through which +carriages were driven to what was popularly known as Castle Roscoe. +Everything, even to the luxuriously appointed room in which he sat, +indicated wealth and the ease which comes from affluence. + +Mr. Roscoe looked around him with exultation. + +“And all this may be mine,” he said to himself, “if I am only bold. What +is it old Pindar says? ‘Boldness is the beginning of victory.’ I have +forgotten nearly all I learned in school, but I remember that. There is +some risk, perhaps, but not much, and I owe something to my son---” + +He was interrupted by the entrance of the servant with a small leather +bag, which was used to hold mail matter, going from or coming to the +house. + +The servant unlocked the bag, and emptied the contents on the desk. +There were three or four papers and two letters. It was the last which +attracted Mr. Roscoe’s attention. + +We will take the liberty of looking over Mr. Roscoe’s shoulder as he +reads the first. It ran as follows: + +“DEAR SIR:-I am in receipt of your favor, asking my terms for boarding +pupils. For pupils of fifteen or over, I charge five hundred dollars per +year, which is not a large sum considering the exceptional advantages +presented by Inglewood School. My pupils are from the best families, +and enjoy a liberal table. Moreover, I employ competent teachers, and +guarantee rapid progress, when the student is of good, natural capacity, +and willing to work. + +“I think you will agree with me that it is unwise to economize when the +proper training of a youth is in question, and that a cheap school is +little better than no school at all. + +“I have only to add that I shall be most happy to receive your young +nephew, if you decide to send him to me, and will take personal pains to +promote his advancement. I remain, dear sir, your obedient servant, + +“DIONYSIUS KADIX.” + +Mr. Roscoe threw the letter down upon the desk with an impatient +gesture. + +“Five hundred dollars a year!” he exclaimed. “What can the man be +thinking of? Why, when I went to school, twenty-five years since, less +than half this sum was charged. The man is evidently rapacious. Let me +see what this other letter says.” + +The second letter was contained in a yellow envelope, of cheap texture, +and was much more plebeian in appearance than the first. + +Again we will look over Mr. Roscoe’s shoulder, and read what it +contains. It was postmarked Smithville, and the envelope was disfigured +by a blot. It commenced: + +“DEAR SIR:-It gives me pleasure to answer your inquiries respecting +my school. I have about fifty pupils, part of whom, say one-third, are +boarders. Though I say it myself, it will be hard to find any school +where more thorough instruction is given. I look upon my pupils as my +children, and treat them as such. My system of government is, therefore, +kind and parental, and my pupils are often homesick in vacation, longing +for the time to come when they can return to their studies at Smith +Institute. It is the dearest wish of Mrs. Smith and myself to make our +young charges happy, and to advance them, by pleasant roads over flowery +meads, to the inner courts of knowledge. + +“Humbug!” muttered Mr. Roscoe. “I understand what all that means.” He +continued: + +“I hope you will not consider three hundred dollars per annum too +much for such parental care. Considering the present high price of +provisions, it is really as low a price as we can afford to receive. + +“I shall be glad if you consider my letter favorable and decide to place +your nephew under my charge. Yours respectfully, + +“SOCRATES SMITH, A. M.” + +“That is more reasonable,” said Mr. Roscoe, to himself, as he laid down +the letter. “Three hundred dollars I consider a fair price. At any rate, +I do not propose to pay any more for Hector. I suppose the table is +plain enough, but I don’t believe in pampering the appetites of boys. +If he were the master of Roscoe Hall, as he thinks he is, there might be +some propriety in it; but upon that head I shall soon undeceive him. I +will let him understand that I am the proprietor of the estate, and that +he is only a dependent on my bounty. I wonder how he will take it. I +dare say he will make a fuss, but he shall soon be made to understand +that it is of no use. Now to answer these letters.” + +Mr. Roscoe sat down in a luxurious armchair, and, drawing pen and paper +toward him, wrote first to Dr. Radix. I subjoin the letter, as it throws +some light upon the character of the writer: + +“ROSCOE HALL, Sept. 10th. DR. DIONYSIUS RADIX. + +“My DEAR SIR:-I am in receipt of your letter of the 8th instant, +answering my inquiries in regard to your school. Let me say at once that +I find your terms too high. Five hundred dollars a year for forty weeks’ +board and schooling seems to me an exorbitant price to ask. Really, at +this rate, education will soon become a luxury open only to the wealthy. + +“You are probably under a misapprehension in reference to my young ward. +Nephew he is not, in a strict sense of the term. He was adopted--not +legally, but practically--by my brother, when he was only a year old, +and his origin has been concealed from him. My brother, being childless, +has allowed him to suppose that he was his own son. Undoubtedly he +meant to provide for him in his will, but, as often happens, put off +will-making till it was too late. The estate, therefore, goes to me, +and the boy is unprovided for. This does not so much matter, since I am +willing to educate him, and give him a fair start in life, if he acts +in a manner to suit me. I do not, however, feel called upon to pay an +exorbitant price for his tuition, and, therefore, shall be obliged to +forego placing him at Inglewood School. Yours, etc., + +“ALLAN ROSCOE.” + +“When this letter is sent, I shall have taken the decisive step,” + thought Mr. Roscoe. “I must then adhere to my story, at whatever cost. +Now for the other.” + +His reply to the letter of Socrates Smith, A. M., was briefer, but +likely to be more satisfactory to the recipient. It ran thus; + +“SOCRATES SMITH, A. M. + +“DEAR Sir:-Your letter is at hand, and I find it, on the whole, +satisfactory. The price you charge-three hundred dollars per annum--is +about right. I hope you are a firm disciplinarian. I do not want Hector +too much indulged or pampered, though he may expect it, my poor brother +having been indulgent to excess. + +“Let me add, by the bye, that Hector is not my nephew, though I may +inadvertently have mentioned him as such, and had no real claims upon my +brother, though he has been brought up in that belief. He was adopted, +in an informal way, by my brother, when he was but, an infant. Under the +circumstances, I am willing to take care of him, and prepare him to earn +his own living when his education is completed. + +“You may expect to see me early next week. I will bring the boy with me, +and enter him at once as a pupil in your school. + +“Yours, etc., ALLAN ROSCOE.” + +“There, that clinches it!” said Mr. Roscoe, in a tone of satisfaction. +“Now for an interview with the boy.” + + + + +CHAPTER II. RESENTING AN INSULT. + + + +A stone’s throw from the mansion was a neat and spacious carriage house. +The late master of Castle Roscoe had been fond of driving, and kept +three horses and two carriages. One of the latter was an old-fashioned +coach; while there was, besides, a light buggy, which Hector was +accustomed to consider his own. It was he, generally, who used this, +for his father preferred to take a driver, and generally took an airing, +either alone or with Hector, in the more stately carriage, drawn by two +horses. + +Hector walked across the lawn and entered the carriage house, where +Edward, the coachman, was washing the carriage. As the former is to be +our hero, we may pause to describe him. + +He was fifteen, slenderly but strongly made, with a clear skin and dark +eyes and a straightforward look. He had a winning smile, that attracted +all who saw it, but his face could assume a different expression if +need be. There were strong lines about his mouth that indicated calm +resolution and strength of purpose. He was not a boy who would permit +himself to be imposed upon, but was properly tenacious of his rights. + +As he entered the carriage house, he looked about him in some surprise. + +“Where is the buggy, Edward?” he asked. + +“Master Guy is driving out in it.” + +“How is that?” said Hector. “Doesn’t he know that it is mine? He might, +at least, have asked whether I intended to use it.” + +“That is what I told him.” + +“And what did he say?” + +“That it was just as much his as yours, and perhaps more so.” + +“What could he mean?” + +“He said his father had promised to give it to him.” + +“Promised to give him my buggy!” exclaimed Hector, his eyes flashing. + +“It’s a shame, Master Hector, so it is,” said Edward, sympathetically. +He had known Hector since he was a boy of five, and liked him far better +than Guy, who was a newcomer, and a boy disposed to domineer over those +whom he considered his inferiors. + +“I don’t intend to submit to it,” said Hector, trying, ineffectually, to +curb his anger. + +“I don’t blame you, Master Hector, but I’m afraid you will have a hard +time. As your uncle is your guardian, of course he has power over you, +and he thinks everything of that boy of his, though, to my mind, he is +an unmannerly cub.” + +“I don’t know how much power he has over me, but he mustn’t expect me +to play second fiddle to his son. I am willing that Guy should enjoy +as many privileges as I do, though the estate is mine; but he mustn’t +interfere with my rights.” + +“That’s right, Master Hector. Why don’t you speak to your uncle about +it? I would, if I were you.” + +“So I will, if it is necessary. I will speak to Guy first, and that may +be sufficient. I don’t want to enter complaint against him if I can help +it.” + +“You didn’t see Master Guy ride out, did you?” + +“‘No; I was reading. If I had seen him, I would have stopped him.” + +“I am afraid it wouldn’t have done any good.” + +“Do you mean that he would have taken the buggy in spite of me?” asked +Hector, indignantly. + +“I think he would have tried. To tell the truth, Master Hector, I +refused to get the buggy ready for him, till he brought out a paper from +his father commanding me to do it. Then, of course, I had no choice.” + +Hector was staggered by this. + +“Have you got the paper?” he asked. + +“Yes,” answered Edward, fumbling in his vest pocket. + +He drew out a small scrap of notepaper, on which was written, “My son, +Guy, has my permission to ride out in the buggy. You will obey me rather +than Hector.” + +This was signed, “Allan Roscoe.” + +“So it seems my uncle is the trespasser,” said Hector. “It is he who +takes the responsibility. I will go and speak to him at once.” + +“Wait a minute! There comes Master Guy, returning from his ride. You can +have it out with him first.” + +In fact, Hector had only to look down the avenue to see the rapid +approach of the buggy. Guy held the reins, and was seated in the +driver’s seat with all the air of a master. The sight aggravated Hector, +and not without reason. He waited until Guy, flinging the reins to +Edward, leaped from the buggy, then he thought it time to speak. + +“Guy,” he said, calmly, “it seems to me that you owe me an apology.” + +“Oh, I do, do I?” sneered Guy. “What for, let me ask?” + +“You have driven out in my buggy, without asking my permission.” + +“Oh, it’s your buggy, is it?” said Guy, with another sneer. + +“Of course it is. You know that as well as I do.” + +“I don’t know it at all.” + +“Then I inform you of it. I don’t want to be selfish; I am willing that +you should ride out in it occasionally; but I insist upon your asking my +permission.” + +Guy listened to these words with a sneer upon his face. He was about +the same age and size as Hector, but his features were mean and +insignificant, and there was a shifty look in his eye that stamped him +as unreliable. He did not look like the Roscoes, though in many respects +he was in disposition and character similar to his father. + +“It strikes me,” he said, with an unpleasant smile, “that you’re taking +a little too much upon yourself, Hector Roscoe. The buggy is no more +yours than mine.” + +“What do you say, Edward?” said Hector, appealing to the coachman. + +“I say that the buggy is yours, and the horse is yours, and so I told +Master Guy, but he wouldn’t take no notice of it.” + +“Do you hear that, Guy?” + +“Yes, I do; and that’s what I think of it,” answered Guy, snapping his +fingers. “My father gave me permission to ride out in it, and I’ve got +just as much right to it as you, and perhaps more.” + +“You know better, Guy,” said Hector, indignantly; “and I warn you not to +interfere with my rights hereafter.” + +“Suppose I do?” sneered Guy. + +“Then I shall be under the necessity of giving you a lesson,” said +Hector, calmly. + +“You will, will you? You’ll give me a lesson?” repeated Guy, nodding +vigorously. “Who are you, I’d like to know?” + +“If you don’t know, I can tell you.” + +“Tell me, then.” + +“I am Hector Roscoe, the owner of Roscoe Hall. Whether your father is to +be my guardian or not, I don’t know; but there are limits to the power +of a guardian, and I hope he won’t go too far.” + +“Hear the boy talk!” said Guy, contemptuously. + +“I wish to treat my uncle with becoming respect; but he is a newcomer +here--I never saw him till three months since--and he has no right to +come here, and take from me all my privileges. We can all live at peace +together, and I hope we shall; but he must treat me well.” + +“You are quite sure Roscoe Castle belongs to you, are you, Hector?” + +“That’s the law. Father left no will, and so the estate comes to me.” + +“Ho! ho!” laughed Guy, with malicious glee. + +“If you only knew what I know, you wouldn’t crow quite so loud. It’s a +splendid joke.” + +There was something in this that attracted Hector’s attention, though he +was not disposed to attach much importance to what Guy said. + +“If I only knew what you know!” he repeated. + +“Yes; that’s what I said.” + +“What is it?” + +“You’ll know it soon enough, and I can tell you one thing, it’ll +surprise you. It’ll take down your pride a peg or two.” + +Hector stared at his cousin in unaffected surprise. What could Guy +possibly mean? Had his father perhaps made a will, and left the estate +to some one else--his uncle, for example? Was this the meaning of Guy’s +malicious mirth? + +“I don’t know to what you refer,” he said; “but if it’s anything that is +of importance to me, I ought to know it. What is it?” + +“Go and ask father,” said Guy, with a tantalizing grin. + +“I will,” answered Hector, “and without delay.” + +He turned to enter the house, but Guy had not exhausted his malice. He +was in a hurry to triumph over Hector, whom he disliked heartily. + +“I don’t mind telling you myself,” he said. + +“You are not what you suppose. You’re a lowborn beggar!” + +He had no sooner uttered these words, than Hector resented the insult. +Seizing the whip from Guy, he grasped him by the collar, flung him to +the ground and lashed him with it. + +“There,” said he, with eyes aflame, “take that, Guy Roscoe, and look out +how you insult me in future!” + +Guy rose slowly from the ground, pale with fury, and, as he brushed the +dust from his clothes, ejaculated: + +“You’ll pay dearly for this, Hector!” + +“I’ll take the consequences,” said Hector, as coldly as his anger would +allow. “Now, I shall go to your father and ask the meaning of this.” + + + + +CHAPTER III. HECTOR LEARNS A SECRET. + + + +Hector entered the library with some impetuosity. Usually he was quiet +and orderly, but he had been excited by the insinuations of Guy, and he +was impatient to know what he meant--if he meant anything. + +Allan Roscoe looked up, and remarked, with slight sarcasm: + +“This is not a bear garden, Hector. You appear to think you are on the +playground, judging by your hasty motions.” + +“I beg your pardon, uncle,” said Hector, who never took amiss a rebuke +which he thought deserved. “I suppose I forgot myself, being excited. I +beg your pardon.” + +“What is the cause of your excitement?” asked Mr. Roscoe, surveying the +boy keenly. + +“Guy has said something that I don’t understand.” + +“He must have said something very profound, then,” returned Allan +Roscoe, with light raillery. + +“Indeed, Uncle Allan, it is no laughing matter,” said Hector, earnestly. + +“Then let me hear what it is.” + +“He intimates that he knows something that would let down my pride a peg +or two. He hints that I am not the heir of Castle Roscoe.” + +The boy used the term by which the house was usually known. + +Allan Roscoe knit his brow in pretended vexation. + +“Inconsiderate boy!” he murmured. “Why need he say this?” + +“But,” said Hector, startled, “is it true?” + +“My boy,” said his uncle, with simulated feeling, “my son has spoken to +you of a secret which I would willingly keep from you if I could. Yet, +perhaps, it is as well that you should be told now.” + +“Told what?” exclaimed Hector, quite at sea. + +“Can you bear to hear, Hector, that it is indeed true? You are not the +owner of this estate.” + +“Who is then?” ejaculated the astonished boy. + +“I am; and Guy after me.” + +“What! Did my father leave the estate away from me? I thought he did not +leave a will?” + +“Nor did he.” + +“Then how can anyone else except his son inherit?” + +“Your question is a natural one. If you were his son you would inherit +under the law.” + +“If I were his son!” repeated Hector, slowly, his head swimming. “What +do you mean by that? Of course I am your brother’s son.” + +“It is very painful for me to tell, Hector. It will be distressing for +you to hear. No tie of blood connects you with the late owner of Castle +Roscoe.” + +“I don’t believe you, Uncle Allan,” said Hector, bluntly. + +“Of course, therefore, I am not your uncle,” added Allan Roscoe, dryly. + +“I beg your pardon; I should have said Mr. Allan Roscoe,” said Hector, +bowing proudly, for his heart was sore, and he was deeply indignant with +the man who sat, smooth and sleek, in his father’s chair, harrowing up +his feelings without himself being ruffled. + +“That is immaterial. Call me uncle, if you like, since the truth is +understood. But I must explain.” + +“I would like to know what is your authority for so surprising a +statement, Mr. Roscoe. You cannot expect me to believe that I have been +deceived all my life.” + +“I make the statement on your father’s authority--I should say, on my +brother’s authority.” + +“Can you prove it, Mr. Roscoe?” + +“I can. I will presently put into your hands a letter, written me by my +brother some months since, which explains the whole matter. To save you +suspense, however, I will recapitulate. Where were you born?” + +“In California.” + +“That is probably true. It was there that my brother found you.” + +“Found me?” + +“Perhaps that is not the word. My brother and his wife were boarding +in Sacramento in the winter of 1859. In the same boarding house was a +widow, with a child of some months old. You were that child. Your mother +died suddenly, and it was ascertained that she left nothing. Her child +was, therefore, left destitute. It was a fine, promising boy--give me +credit for the compliment--and my brother, having no children of his +own, proposed to his wife to adopt it. She was fond of children, and +readily consented. No formalities were necessary, for there was no one +to claim you. You were at once taken in charge by my brother and his +wife, therefore, and very soon they came to look upon you with as much +affection as if you were their own child. They wished you to consider +them your real parents, and to you the secret was never made known, nor +was it known to the world. When my brother returned to this State, three +years after, not one of his friends doubted that the little Hector was +his own boy. + +“When you were six years old your mother died--that is, my brother’s +wife. All the more, perhaps, because he was left alone, my brother +became attached to you, and, I think, he came to love you as much as if +you were his own son.” + +“I think he did,” said Hector, with emotion. “Never was there a kinder, +more indulgent father.” + +“Yet he was not your father,” said Allan Roscoe, with sharp emphasis. + +“So you say, Mr. Roscoe.” + +“So my brother says in his letter to me.” + +“Do you think it probable that, with all this affection for me, he would +have left me penniless?” asked the boy. + +“No; it was his intention to make a will. By that will he would no doubt +have provided for you in a satisfactory manner. But I think my poor +brother had a superstitious fear of will making, lest it might hasten +death. At any rate, he omitted it till it was too late.” + +“It was a cruel omission, if your story is a true one.” + +“Your--my brother, did what he could to remedy matters. In his last +sickness, when too weak to sign his name, he asked me, as the legal heir +of his estate, to see that you were well provided for. He wished me to +see your education finished, and I promised to do so. I could see that +this promise relieved his mind. Of one thing you may be assured, Hector, +he never lost his affection for you.” + +“Thank Heaven for that!” murmured the boy, who had been deeply and +devotedly attached to the man whom, all his life long, he had looked +upon as his father. + +“I can only add, Hector,” said Mr. Roscoe, “that I feel for your natural +disappointment. It is, indeed, hard to be brought up to regard yourself +as the heir of a great estate, and to make the discovery that you have +been mistaken.” + +“I don’t mind that so much, Mr. Roscoe,” said Hector, slowly. “It is the +hardest thing to think of myself as having no claim upon one whom I have +loved as a father--to think myself as a boy of unknown parentage. But,” + he added, suddenly, “I have it only on your word. Why should I believe +it?” + +“I will give you conclusive proof, Hector. Read this.” + +Allan Roscoe took from his pocket a letter, without an envelope. One +glance served to show Hector that it was in the handwriting of his late +father, or, at any rate, in a handwriting surprisingly like it. + +He began to read it with feverish haste. + +The letter need not find a place here. The substance of it had been +accurately given by Mr. Allan Roscoe. Apparently, it corroborated his +every statement. + +The boy looked up from its perusal, his face pale and stricken. + +“You see that I have good authority for my statement,” said Mr. Roscoe. + +“I can’t understand it,” said Hector, slowly. + +“I need only add,” said Mr. Roscoe, apparently relieved by the +revelation, “that my brother did not repose confidence in me in vain. I +accept, as a sacred charge, the duty he imposed upon me. I shall provide +for you and look after your education. I wish to put you in a way to +prepare yourself for a useful and honorable career. As a first step, I +intend, on Monday next, to place you in an excellent boarding school, +where you will have exceptional privileges.” + +Hector listened, but his mind was occupied by sad thoughts, and he made +no comment. + +“I have even selected the school with great care,” said Mr. Roscoe. “It +is situated at Smithville, and is under the charge of Socrates Smith, A. +M., a learned and distinguished educator. You may go now. I will speak +with you on this subject later.” + +Hector bowed. After what he had heard, his interest in other matters was +but faint. + +“I shall be glad to get him out of the house,” thought Allan Roscoe. “I +never liked him.” + + + + +CHAPTER IV. A SKIRMISH. + + + +Hector walked out of the house in a state of mental bewilderment not +easily described. Was he not Hector Roscoe, after all? Had he been all +his life under a mistake? If this story were true, who was he, who were +his parents, what was his name? Why had the man whom he had supposed to +be his father not imparted to him this secret? He had always been kind +and indulgent; he had never appeared to regard the boy as an alien in +blood, but as a dearly loved son. Yet, if he had, after all, left him +unprovided for, he had certainly treated Hector with great cruelty. + +“I won’t believe it,” said Hector, to himself. + +“I won’t so wrong my dear father’s memory at the bidding of this man, +whose interest it is to trump up this story, since he and his son become +the owners of a great estate in my place.” + +Just then Guy advanced toward Hector with a malicious smile upon his +face. He knew very well what a blow poor Hector had received, for he +was in his father’s confidence, and he was mean enough, and malicious +enough, to rejoice at it. + +“What’s the matter with you, Hector?” he asked, with a grin. “You look +as if you had lost your last friend.” + +Hector stopped short and regarded Guy fixedly. + +“Do you know what your father has been saying to me?” he asked. + +“Well, I can guess,” answered Guy. “Ho! ho! It’s a great joke that you +have all the time fancied yourself the heir of Castle Roscoe, when you +have no claim to it at all. I am the heir!” he added, drawing himself up +proudly; “and you are a poor dependent, and a nobody. It’s funny!” + +“Perhaps you won’t think it so funny after this!” said Hector, coolly, +exasperated beyond endurance. As he spoke he drew off, and in an instant +Guy measured his length upon the greensward. + +Guy rose, his face livid with passion, in a frame of mind far from +funny. He clinched his fists and looked at Hector as if he wished to +annihilate him. “You’ll pay for this,” he screamed. “You’ll repent it, +bitterly, you poor, nameless dependent, low-born, very likely--” + +“Hold, there!” said Hector, advancing resolutely, and sternly facing the +angry boy. “Be careful what you say. If this story of your father’s is +true, which I don’t believe, you might have the decency to let me +alone, even if you don’t sympathize with me. If you dare to say or hint +anything against my birth, I’ll treat you worse than I have yet.” + +“You’ll suffer for this!” almost shrieked Guy. + +“I am ready to suffer now, if you are able to make me,” said Hector. +“Come on, and we’ll settle it now.” + +But Guy had no desire for the contest to which he was invited. He had a +wholesome fear of Hector’s strong, muscular arms, aided, as they were, +by some knowledge of boxing. Hector had never taken regular lessons, but +a private tutor, whom his father had employed, a graduate of Yale, had +instructed him in the rudiments of the “manly art of self-defense,” and +Hector was very well able to take care of himself against any boy of his +own size and strength. In size, Guy was his equal, but in strength he +was quite inferior. This Guy knew full well, and, angry as he was, he by +no means lost sight of prudence. + +“I don’t choose to dirty my hands with you,” he said. “I shall tell my +father, and it would serve you right if he sent you adrift.” + +In Hector’s present mood, he would not, perhaps, have cared much if +this threat had been carried into execution, but he was not altogether +reckless, and he felt that it was best to remain under Mr. Roscoe’s +protection until he had had time to investigate the remarkable story +which he suspected his reputed uncle had trumped up to serve his own +interests. + +“Tell your father, if you like,” said Hector, quietly. “I don’t know +whether he will sustain you or not in your insults, but if he does, then +I shall have two opponents instead of one.” + +“Does that mean that you will attack my father?” demanded Guy, hoping +for an affirmative answer, as it would help him to prejudice his father +against our hero. + +“No,” answered Hector, smiling, “I don’t apprehend there will be any +necessity, for he won’t insult me as you have done.” + +Guy lost no time in seeking his father, and laying the matter before him, +inveighing against Hector with great bitterness. + +“So he knocked you down, did he, Guy?” asked Allan Roscoe, thoughtfully. + +“Yes; he took me unawares, or he couldn’t have done it,” answered Guy, a +little ashamed at the avowal. + +“What did you do?” + +“I--I told him he should suffer for it.” + +“Why did he attack you?” + +“It was on account of something I said.” + +“What was it?” + +Guy reluctantly answered this question, and with correctness. + +“It was your fault for speaking to him when he was feeling sore at +making a painful discovery.” + +“Do you justify him in pitching into me like a big brute?” asked Guy, +hastily. + +“No; but still, I think it, was natural, under the circumstances. You +should have kept out of his way, and let him alone.” + +“Won’t you punish him for attacking me?” demanded Guy, indignantly. + +“I will speak to him on the subject,” said Allan Roscoe; “and will tell +him my opinion of his act.” + +“Then shan’t I be revenged upon him?” asked Guy, disappointed. + +“Listen, Guy,” said his father. “Is it no punishment that the boy +is stripped of all his possessions, while you step into his place? +Henceforth he will be dependent upon me, and later, upon you. He has +been hurled down from his proud place as owner of Castle Roscoe, and I +have taken his place, as you will hereafter do.” + +“Yes,” said Guy, gleefully; “it will be a proud day when I become master +of the estate.” + +Allan Roscoe was not a specially sensitive man, but this remark of his +son jarred upon him. + +“You seem to forget, Guy, that you do not succeed till I am dead!” + +“Yes, I suppose so,” answered Guy, slowly. + +“It almost seems as if you were in a hurry for me to die.” + +“I didn’t mean that, but it’s natural to suppose that I shall live +longer than you do, isn’t it?” + +“I suppose so,” returned Allan Roscoe, shortly. + +“Of course that’s what I mean.” + +“Then, since you are so much better off than Hector, you had better be +more considerate, and leave him to get over his disappointment as well +as he can.” + +“Shall I send in Hector to see you?” asked Guy, as he at length turned +to leave the room. + +“Yes.” + +“You’re to go in to my father,” said Guy, reappearing on the lawn; “he’s +going to give it to you.” + +Hector anticipated some such summons, and he had remained in the same +spot, too proud to have it supposed that he shrank from the interview. + +With a firm, resolute step, he entered the presence of Allan Roscoe. + +“I hear you wish to see me, Mr. Roscoe,” he said, manfully. + +“Yes, Hector; Guy has come to me with complaints of you.” + +“If he says I knocked him down for insulting me, he has told you the +truth,” said Hector, sturdily. + +“That was the substance of what he said, though he did not admit the +insult.” + +“But for that I should not have attacked him.” + +“I do not care to interfere in boys’ quarrels, except in extreme +cases,” said Mr. Roscoe. “I am afraid Guy was aggravating, and you were +unnecessarily violent.” + +“It doesn’t seem to me so,” said Hector. + +“So I regard it. I have warned him not to add by taunts to the poignancy +of your disappointment. I request you to remember that Guy is my son, +and that I am disposed to follow my brother’s directions, and provide +for and educate you.” + +Hector bowed and retired. He went out with a more favorable opinion of +Allan Roscoe, who had treated the difficulty in a reasonable manner. + +Allan Roscoe looked after him as he went out. + +“I hate that boy,” he said, to himself; “I temporize from motives of +policy, but I mean to tame his haughty spirit yet.” + + + + +CHAPTER V. PREPARING TO LEAVE HOME. + + + +Allan Roscoe’s remonstrance with the two boys had the effect of keeping +the peace between them for the remainder of the week. Guy did not think +it prudent to taunt Hector, unless backed up by his father, and he felt +that the change in their relative positions was satisfaction enough at +present. Besides, his father, in a subsequent conversation, had told Guy +that it was his purpose to place Hector in a boarding school, where the +discipline would be strict, and where he would be thrashed if he proved +rebellious. + +“I shall tell Mr. Smith,” he added, “that the boy needs a strong hand, +and that I am not only perfectly willing that he should be punished +whenever occasion may call for it, but really desire it.” + +“Good, good!” commended Guy, gleefully. “I hope old Smith’ll lay it on +good.” + +“I presume he will,” said Allan Roscoe, smiling in sympathy with his +son’s exuberance. “I am told by a man who knows him that he is a tall +man, strong enough to keep order, and determined to do it.” + +“I should like to be there to see Hector’s first flogging,” remarked the +amiable Guy. “I’d rather see it than go to the theater any time.” + +“I don’t see how you can, unless you also enter the school.” + +“No, thank you,” answered Guy. “No boarding school for me. That isn’t +my idea of enjoyment. I’d rather stay at home with you. Hector won’t be +here to interfere with my using his horse and buggy.” + +“They are his no longer. I give them to you.” + +“Thank you, father,” said Guy, very much gratified. + +“But I would rather you would not use them till after Hector is gone. It +might disturb him.” + +“That’s just why I want to do it.” + +“But it might make trouble. He might refuse to go to school.” + +“You’d make him go, wouldn’t you, father?” + +“Yes; but I wish to avoid forcible measures, if possible. Come, Guy, +it’s only till Monday; then Hector will be out of the way, and you can +do as you please without fear of interference.” + +“All right, father. I’ll postpone my fun till he is out of the way. +You’ll go with him, won’t you?” + +“Yes, Guy.” + +“Just tell old Smith how to treat him. Tell him to show him no mercy, if +he doesn’t behave himself.” + +“You seem to dislike Hector very much. You shouldn’t feel so. It isn’t +Christian.” + +Guy looked at his father queerly out of the corner of his eye. He +understood him better than Allan Roscoe supposed. + +“I hope you won’t insist on my loving him, father,” he said. “I leave +that to you.” + +“I only wish you to avoid coming into collision with him. As for love, +that is something not within our power.” + +“Will you be ready to go with me to boarding school on Monday morning, +Hector?” asked Allan Roscoe, on Saturday afternoon. + +“Yes, sir.” + +Indeed, Hector felt that it would be a relief to get away from the +house which he had been taught to look upon as his--first by right of +inheritance, and later as actual owner. As long as he remained he was +unpleasantly reminded of the great loss he had experienced. Again, +his relations with Guy were unfriendly, and he knew that if they were +permanently together it wouldn’t be long before there would be another +collision. Though in such a case he was sure to come off victorious, he +did not care to contend, especially as no advantage could come of it in +the end. + +Of the boarding school kept by Mr. Socrates Smith he had never heard, +but felt that he would, at any rate, prefer to find himself amid new +scenes. If the school were a good one, he meant to derive benefit from +it, for he was fond of books and study, and thought school duties no +task. + +“I have carefully selected a school for you,” continued Allan Roscoe, +“because I wish to follow out my poor brother’s wishes to the letter. +A good education will fit you to maintain yourself, and attain a +creditable station in life, which is very important, since you will have +to carve your own future.” + +There was no objection to make to all this. Still, it did grate upon +Hector’s feelings, to be so often reminded of his penniless position, +when till recently he had regarded himself, and had been regarded by +others, as a boy of large property. + +Smithville was accessible by railroad, being on the same line as the +town of Plympton in which Roscoe Castle was situated. There was a train +starting at seven o’clock, which reached Smithville at half-past, eight. +This was felt to be the proper train to take, as it would enable Hector +to reach school before the morning session began. Allan Roscoe, who was +not an early riser, made an effort to rise in time, and succeeded. In +truth, he was anxious to get Hector out of the house. It might be +that the boy’s presence was a tacit reproach, it might be that he had +contracted a dislike for him. At any rate, when Hector descended to the +breakfast room, he found Mr. Roscoe already there. + +“You are in time, Hector,” said Mr. Roscoe. “I don’t know how early they +will get up at school, but I hope it won’t be earlier than this.” + +“I have no objection to early rising,” said Hector. + +“I have,” said Allan Roscoe, gaping. + +“I am sorry to have inconvenienced you,” said Hector, politely. “I could +have gone to school alone.” + +“No doubt; but I wished an interview with Mr. Socrates Smith myself. I +look upon myself in the light of your guardian, though you are not my +nephew, as was originally supposed.” + +“I’d give a good deal to know whether this is true,” thought Hector, +fixing his eyes attentively upon his uncle’s face. + +I have written “uncle” inadvertently, that being the character in which +Mr. Roscoe appeared to the world. + +“By the way, Hector,” said Allan Roscoe, “there is one matter which we +have not yet settled.” + +“What is that, sir?” + +“About your name.” + +“My name is Hector Roscoe.” + +“I beg your pardon. Assuming by brother’s communication to be true, and +I think you will not question his word, you have no claim to the name.” + +“To what name have I a claim, then?” asked Hector, pointedly. + +“To the name of your father--the last name, I mean. I have no objection +to your retaining the name of Hector.” + +“What was the name of my father?” asked the boy. + +“Ahem! My brother did not mention that in his letter. Quite an omission, +I must observe.” + +“Then it is clear that he meant to have me retain his own name,” said +Hector, decisively. + +“That does not follow.” + +“As I know no other name to which I have a claim, I shall certainly keep +the name of the kindest friend I ever had, whether he was my father or +not,” said Hector, firmly. + +Allan Roscoe looked annoyed. + +“Really,” he said, “I think this ill-judged, very ill-judged. It will +lead to misapprehension. It will deceive people into the belief that you +are a real Roscoe.” + +“I don’t know but I am,” answered Hector, with a calm look of defiance, +which aggravated Allan Roscoe. + +“Have I not told you you are not?” he said, frowning. + +“You have; but you have not proved it,” said Hector. + +“I am surprised that you should cling to a foolish delusion. You are +only preparing trouble for yourself. If my word is not sufficient--” + +“You are an interested party. This story, if true, gives you my +property.” + +“At any rate, you may take your father’s--I mean my brother’s--word for +it.” + +“If he had told me so, I would believe it,” said Hector. + +“You have it in black and white, in the paper I showed you. What more do +you want?” + +“I want to be sure that that document is genuine. However, I won’t argue +the question now. I have only been giving you my reasons for keeping the +name I have always regarded as mine.” + +Allan Roscoe thought it best to drop the subject; but the boy’s +persistency disturbed him. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. SMITH INSTITUTE. + + + +Socrates Smith, A. M., was not always known by the philosophic name +by which he challenged the world’s respect as a man of learning and +distinguished attainments. When a boy in his teens, and an academy +student, he was known simply as Shadrach Smith. His boy companions used +to address him familiarly as Shad. It was clear that no pedagogue could +retain the respect of his pupils who might readily be metamorphosed into +Old Shad. By the advice of a brother preacher, he dropped the plebeian +name, and bloomed forth as Socrates Smith, A. M. + +I may say, in confidence, that no one knew from what college Mr. Smith +obtained the degree of Master of Arts. He always evaded the question +himself, saying that it was given him by a Western university causa +honoris. + +It might be, or it might not. At any rate, he was allowed to wear +the title, since no one thought it worth while to make the necessary +examination into its genuineness. Nor, again, had anyone been able to +discover at what college the distinguished Socrates had studied. In +truth, he had never even entered college, but he had offered himself as +a candidate for admission to a college in Ohio, and been rejected. This +did not, however, prevent his getting up a school, and advertising to +instruct others in the branches of learning of which his own knowledge +was so incomplete. + +He was able to hide his own deficiencies, having generally in his employ +some college graduate, whose poverty compelled him to accept the scanty +wages which Socrates doled out to him. These young men were generally +poor scholars in more than one sense of the word, as Mr. Smith did not +care to pay the high salary demanded by a first-class scholar. Mr. Smith +was shrewd enough not to attempt to instruct the classes in advanced +classics or mathematics, as he did not care to have his deficiencies +understood by his pupils. + +It pleased him best to sit in state and rule the school, administering +reproofs and castigations where he thought fit, and, best of all, to +manage the finances. Though his price was less than that of many other +schools, his profits were liberal, as he kept down expenses. His table +was exceedingly frugal, as his boarding pupils could have testified, and +the salaries he paid to under teachers were pitifully small. + +So it was that, year by year, Socrates Smith, A. M., found himself +growing richer, while his teachers grew more shabby, and his pupils +rarely became fat. + +Allan Roscoe took a carriage from the depot to the school. + +Arrived at the gate, he descended, and Hector followed him. + +The school building was a long, rambling, irregular structure, of no +known order of architecture, bearing some resemblance to a factory. The +ornament of architecture Mr. Smith did not regard. He was strictly of a +utilitarian cast of mind. So long as the institute, as he often called +it, afforded room for the school and scholars he did not understand what +more was wanted. + +“Is Mr. Smith at leisure?” Mr. Roscoe asked of a bare-arm servant girl +who answered the bell. + +“I guess he’s in his office,” was the reply. + +“Take him this card,” said Mr. Roscoe. The girl inspected the card with +some curiosity, and carried it to the eminent principal. When Socrates +Smith read upon the card the name + +ALLAN ROSCOE, + +and, penciled in the corner, “with a pupil,” he said, briskly: + +“Bring the gentleman in at once, Bridget.” + +As Mr. Roscoe entered, Mr. Smith beamed upon him genially. It was thus +he always received those who brought to him new scholars. As he always +asked half a term’s tuition and board in advance, every such visitor +represented to him so much ready cash, and for ready cash Socrates had a +weakness. + +“I am glad to see you, Mr. Roscoe,” said the learned principal, +advancing to meet his visitor. “And this is the young lad. Dear me! he +is very well grown, and looks like he was fond of his books.” + +This was not exactly the way in which a learned scholar might be +expected to talk; but Mr. Smith’s speech was not always elegant, or even +grammatically correct. + +“I believe he is reasonably fond of study,” said Mr. Roscoe. “Hector, +this is your future instructor, Prof. Socrates Smith.” + +At the name of professor, which he much affected, Socrates Smith looked +positively benignant. + +“My young friend,” he said, “we will try to make you happy. Smith +Institute is a regular beehive, full of busy workers, who are preparing +themselves for the duties and responsibilities of life. I aim to be a +father to my pupils, and Mrs. Smith is a mother to them. I am truly glad +to receive you into my happy family.” + +Hector scanned attentively the face of his new teacher. He was not +altogether prepossessed in his favor. That the reader may judge whether +he had reason to be, let me describe Mr. Smith. + +He was a trifle over six feet in height, with yellowish, sandy hair, +high cheek bones, a rough and mottled skin, a high but narrow forehead, +a pair of eyes somewhat like those of a ferret, long, ungainly limbs, +and a shambling walk. A coat of rusty black, with very long tails, +magnified his apparent height, and nothing that he wore seemed made for +him. + +Perhaps, as the first Socrates was said to have been the homeliest of +all the Athenians, it was fitting that the man who assumed his name +should also have the slightest possible claim to beauty. + +“He may be a learned man,” thought Hector, “but he is certainly plain +enough. It is well that he has something to compensate for his looks.” + +“I hope you are glad to come here, my boy,” said Socrates, affably. “I +sincerely trust that you will be contented at the institute.” + +“I hope so, too,” said Hector, but he evidently spoke doubtfully. + +“I should like a little conversation with you, Professor Smith,” said +Allan Roscoe. “I don’t know that it is necessary to keep Hector here +during our interview.” + +Socrates took the hint. + +He rang a hand bell, and a lank boy, of fifteen, appeared. + +“Wilkius,” said Mr. Smith, “this is a new scholar, Hector Roscoe. Take +him to the playground, and introduce him to Mr. Crabb.” + +“All right, sir. Come along.” + +This last was addressed to Hector, who went out with the new boy. + +“I thought it best to speak with you briefly about Hector, Professor +Smith,” commenced Allan Roscoe. + +“Very appropriate and gratifying, Mr. Roscoe. I can assure you he will +be happy here.” + +“I dare say,” returned Mr. Roscoe, carelessly. “I wish to guard you +against misinterpreting my wishes. I don’t want the boy pampered, or too +much indulged.” + +“We never pamper our boarding pupils,” said Socrates, and it is quite +certain that he spoke the truth. + +“It spoils boys to be too well treated.” + +“So it does,” said Socrates, eagerly. “Plain, wholesome diet, without +luxury, and a kind, but strict discipline--such are the features of +Smith Institute.” + +“Quite right and judicious, professor. I may remark that the boy, though +reared in luxury by my brother, is really penniless.” + +“You don’t say so?” + +“Yes, he is solely dependent upon my generosity. I propose, however, to +give him a good education at my own expense, and prepare him to earn his +living in some useful way.” + +“Kind philanthropist!” exclaimed Socrates. “He ought, indeed, to be +grateful.” + +“I doubt if he will,” said Mr. Roscoe, shrugging his shoulders. “He has +a proud spirit, and a high idea of his own position, though he is of +unknown parentage, and has nothing of his own.” + +“Indeed!” + +“I merely wish to say that you do not need to treat him as if he were +my nephew. It is best to be strict with him, and make him conform to the +rules.” + +“I will, indeed, Mr. Roscoe. Would that all guardians of youth were as +judicious! Your wishes shall be regarded.” + +After a little more conversation, Allan Roscoe took his leave. + +So, under auspices not the most pleasant, Hector’s school life began. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. THE TYRANT OF THE PLAYGROUND. + + + +Under the guidance of the lank boy, named Wilkins, Hector left Mr. +Smith’s office, and walked to a barren-looking plot of ground behind the +house, which served as a playground for the pupils of Smith Institute. + +Wilkins scanned the new arrival closely. + +“I say, Roscoe,” he commenced, “what made you come here?” + +“Why do boys generally come to school?” returned Hector. + +“Because they have to, I suppose,” answered Wilkins. + +“I thought they came to study.” + +“Oh, you’re one of that sort, are you?” asked Wilkins, curiously. + +“I hope to learn something here.” + +“You’ll get over that soon,” answered Wilkins, in the tone of one who +could boast of a large experience. + +“I hope not. I shall want to leave school if I find I can’t learn here.” + +“Who is it that brought you here--your father?” + +“No, indeed!” answered Hector, quickly, for he had no desire to be +considered the son of Allan Roscoe. + +“Uncle, then?” + +“He is my guardian,” answered Hector, briefly. + +They were by this time in the playground. Some dozen boys were playing +baseball. They were of different ages and sizes, ranging from ten to +nineteen. The oldest and largest bore such a strong personal resemblance +to Socrates Smith, that Hector asked if he were his son. + +“No,” answered Wilkins; “he is old Sock’s nephew.” + +“Who is old Sock?” + +“Smith, of course. His name is Socrates, you know. Don’t let him catch +you calling him that, though.” + +“What sort of a fellow is this nephew?” asked Hector. + +“He’s a bully. He bosses the boys. It’s best to keep on the right side +of Jim.” + +“Oh, is it?” inquired Hector, smiling slightly. + +“Well, I should say so.” + +“Suppose you don’t?” + +“He’ll give you a thrashing.” + +“Does his uncle allow that?” + +“Yes; I think he rather likes it.” + +“Don’t the boys resist?” + +“It won’t do any good. You see, Jim’s bigger than any of us.” + +Hector took a good look at this redoubtable Jim Smith. + +He was rather loosely made, painfully homely, and about five feet nine +inches in height. Nothing more need be said, as, in appearance, he +closely resembled his uncle. + +Jim Smith soon gave Hector an opportunity of verifying the description +given of him by Wilkins. + +The boy at the bat had struck a ball to the extreme boundary of the +field. The fielder at that point didn’t go so fast as Jim, who was +pitcher, thought satisfactory, and he called out in a rough, brutal +tone: + +“If you don’t go quicker, Archer, I’ll kick you all round the field.” + +Hector looked at Wilkins inquiringly. + +“Does he mean that?” he asked. + +“Yes, he does.” + +“Does he ever make such a brute of himself?” + +“Often.” + +“And the boys allow it?” + +“They can’t help it.” + +“So, it seems, you have a tyrant of the school?” + +“That’s just it.” + +“Isn’t there any boy among you to teach the fellow better manners? You +must be cowards to submit.” + +“Oh, you’ll find out soon that you must submit, too,” said Wilkins. + +Hector smiled. + +“You don’t know me yet,” he said. + +“What could you do against Jim? He’s three or four inches taller than +you. How old are you?” + +“I shall be sixteen next month.” + +“And he is nineteen.” + +“That may be; but he’d better not try to order me round.” + +“You’ll sing a different tune in a day or two,” said Wilkins. + +By this time Jim Smith had observed the new arrival. + +“What’s that you’ve got with you, Wilkins?” he demanded, pausing in his +play. + +“The new boy.” + +“Who’s he?” + +“His name is Roscoe.” + +“Ho! Hasn’t he got any other name?” asked Jim, meaningly. + +Wilkins had forgotten the new arrival’s first name, and said so. + +“What’s your name, Roscoe?” asked Jim, in the tone of a superior. + +Hector resented this tone, and, though he had no objection, under +ordinary circumstances, to answering the question, he did not choose to +gratify his present questioner. + +“I don’t happen to have a card with me,” he answered, coldly. + +“Oh, that’s your answer, is it?” retorted Jim, scenting insubordination +with undisguised pleasure, for he always liked the task of subduing a +new boy. + +“Yes.” + +“I guess you don’t know who I am,” said Jim, blustering. + +“Oh, yes, I do.” + +“Well, who am I, then?” + +“The bully of the school, I should suppose, from your style of +behavior.” + +“Do you hear that, boys?” demanded Jim, in a theatrical tone, turning to +the other boys. + +There was a little murmur in response, but whether of approval or +reprobation, it was not easy to judge. + +“That boy calls me a bully! He actually has the audacity to insult me! +What do you say to that?” + +The boys looked uneasy. Possibly, in their secret hearts, they admired +the audacity that Jim complained of; but, seeing the difference between +the two boys in size and apparent strength, it did not seem to them +prudent to espouse the side of Hector. + +“Don’t you think I ought to teach him a lesson?” + +“Yes!” cried several of the smaller boys, who stood in awe of the bully. + +Hector smiled slightly, but did not seem in the least intimidated. + +“Jim,” said Wilkins, “the boy’s guardian is inside with your uncle.” + +This was meant as a warning, and received as such. A boy’s guardian is +presumed to be his friend, and it would not be exactly prudent, while +the guardian was closeted with the principal, to make an assault upon +the pupil. + +“Very well,” said Jim; “we’ll postpone Roscoe’s case. This afternoon +will do as well. Come, boys, let us go on with the game.” + +“What made you speak to Jim in that way?” expostulated Wilkins. “I’m +afraid you’ve got into hot water.” + +“Didn’t I tell the truth about him?” + +“Yes,” answered Wilkins, cautiously; “but you’ve made an enemy of him.” + +“I was sure to do that, sooner or later,” said Hector, unconcernedly. +“It might as well be now as any time.” + +“Do you know what he’ll do this afternoon?” + +“What will he do?” + +“He’ll give you a thrashing.” + +“Without asking my permission?” asked Hector, smiling. + +“You’re a queer boy! Of course, he won’t trouble himself about that. You +don’t seem to mind it,” he continued, eying Hector curiously. + +“Oh, no.” + +“Perhaps you think Jim can’t hurt. I know better than that.” + +“Did he ever thrash you, then?” + +“Half a dozen times.” + +“Why didn’t you tell his uncle?” + +“It would be no use. Jim would tell his story, and old Sock would +believe him. But here’s Mr. Crabb, the usher, the man I was to introduce +you to.” + +Hector looked up, and saw advancing a young man, dressed in rusty black, +with a meek and long-suffering expression, as one who was used to being +browbeaten. He was very shortsighted, and wore eyeglasses. + + + +CHAPTER XIII. IN THE SCHOOLROOM. + + + +“Mr. Crabb,” said Wilkins, “this is the new scholar, Roscoe. Mr. Smith +asked me to bring him to you.” + +“Ah, indeed!” said Crabb, adjusting his glasses, which seemed to sit +uneasily on his nose. “I hope you are well, Roscoe?” + +“Thank you, sir; my health is good.” + +“The schoolbell will ring directly. Perhaps you had better come into the +schoolroom and select a desk.” + +“Very well, sir.” + +“Are you a classical scholar, Roscoe?” + +“Yes, sir.” + +“And how far may you have gone now?” queried Crabb. + +“I was reading the fifth book of Virgil when I left off study.” + +“Really, you are quite a scholar. I suppose you don’t know any Greek?” + +“I was in the second book of the Anabasis.” + +“You will go into the first class, then. I hope you will become one of +the ornaments of the institute.” + +“Thank you. Is the first class under Mr. Smith?” + +“No; I teach the first class,” said Crabb, with a modest cough. + +“I thought the principal usually took the first class himself?” + +“Mr. Smith comes into the room occasionally and supervises, but he has +too much business on hand to teach regularly himself.” + +“Is Mr. Smith a good scholar?” asked Hector. + +“Ahem!” answered Mr. Crabb, evidently embarrassed; “I presume so. You +should not ask Ahem! irrelevant questions.” + +In fact, Mr. Crabb had serious doubts as to the fact assumed. He knew +that whenever a pupil went to the principal to ask a question in +Latin or Greek, he was always referred to Crabb himself, or some other +teacher. This, to be sure, proved nothing, but in an unguarded moment, +Mr. Smith had ventured to answer a question himself, and his answer was +ludicrously incorrect. + +The schoolroom was a moderate-sized, dreary-looking room, with another +smaller room opening out of it, which was used as a separate recitation +room. + +“Here is a vacant desk,” said Mr. Crabb, pointing out one centrally +situated. + +“I think that will do. Who sits at the next desk?” + +“Mr. Smith’s nephew.” + +“Oh, that big bully I saw on the playground?” + +“Hush!” said Crabb, apprehensively. “Mr. Smith would not like to have +you speak so of his nephew.” + +“So, Mr. Crabb is afraid of the cad,” soliloquized Hector. “I suppose I +may think what I please about him,” he added, smiling pleasantly. + +“Ye-es, of course; but, Master Roscoe, let me advise you to be prudent.” + +“Is he in your class?” + +“Yes.” + +“Is he much of a scholar?” + +“I don’t think he cares much for Latin and Greek,” answered Mr. Crabb. +“But I must ring the bell. I see that it wants but five minutes of +nine.” + +“About my desk?” + +“Here is another vacant desk, but it is not as well located.” + +“Never mind. I will take it. I shall probably have a better neighbor.” + +The bell was rung. Another teacher appeared, an elderly man, who +looked as if all his vitality had been expended on his thirty years +of teaching. He, too, was shabbily dressed--his coat being shiny and +napless, and his vest lacking two out of the five original buttons. + +“I guess Smith doesn’t pay very high salaries,” thought Hector. “Poor +fellows. His teachers look decidedly seedy.” + +The boys began to pour in, not only those on the playground, but as many +more who lived in the village, and were merely day scholars. Jim +Smith stalked in with an independent manner and dropped into his seat +carelessly. He looked around him patronizingly. He felt that he was +master of the situation. Both ushers and all the pupils stood in fear of +him, as he well knew. Only to his uncle did he look up as his superior, +and he took care to be on good terms with him, as it was essential to +the maintenance of his personal authority. + +Last of all, Mr. Smith, the learned principal, walked into the +schoolroom with the air of a commanding general, followed by Allan +Roscoe, who he had invited to see the school in operation. + +Socrates Smith stood upright behind his desk, and waved his hand +majestically. + +“My young friends,” he said; “this is a marked day. We have with us a +new boy, who is henceforth to be one of us, to be a member of our happy +family, to share in the estimable advantages which you all enjoy. Need I +say that I refer to Master Roscoe, the ward of our distinguished friend, +Mr. Allan Roscoe, who sits beside me, and with interest, I am sure, +surveys our institute?” + +As he spoke he turned towards Mr. Roscoe, who nodded an acknowledgment. + +“I may say to Mr. Roscoe that I am proud of my pupils, and the progress +they have made under my charge. (The principal quietly ignored the two +ushers who did all the teaching.) When these boys have reached a high +position in the world, it will be my proudest boast that they were +prepared for the duties of life at Smith Institute. Compared with this +proud satisfaction, the few paltry dollars I exact as my honorarium are +nothing--absolutely nothing.” + +Socrates looked virtuous and disinterested as he gave utterance to this +sentiment. + +“And now, boys, you will commence your daily exercises, under the +direction of my learned associates, Mr. Crabb and Mr. Jones.” + +Mr. Crabb looked feebly complacent at this compliment, though he knew it +was only because a visitor was present. In private, Socrates was rather +apt to speak slightingly of his attainments. + +“While I am absent with my distinguished friend, Mr. Roscoe, I expect +you to pursue your studies diligently, and preserve the most perfect +order.” + +With these words, the stately figure of Socrates passed through the +door, followed by Mr. Roscoe. + +“A pleasant sight, Mr. Roscoe,” said the principal; “this company of +ambitious, aspiring students, all pressing forward eagerly in pursuit of +learning?” + +“Quite true, sir,” answered Allan Roscoe. + +“I wish you could stay with us for a whole day, to inspect at your +leisure the workings of our educational system.” + +“Thank you, Mr. Smith,” answered Mr. Roscoe, with an inward shudder; +“but I have important engagements that call me away immediately.” + +“Then we must reluctantly take leave of you. I hope you will feel easy +about your nephew--” + +“My ward,” corrected Allan Roscoe. + +“I beg your pardon--I should have remembered--your ward.” + +“I leave him, with confidence, in your hands, my dear sir.” + +So Allan Roscoe took his leave. + +Let us look in upon the aspiring and ambitious scholars, after Mr. Smith +left them in charge of the ushers. + +Jim Smith signalized his devotion to study by producing an apple core, +and throwing it with such skillful aim that it struck Mr. Crabb in the +back of the head. + +The usher turned quickly, his face flushed with wild indignation. + +“Who threw that missile?” he asked, in a vexed tone. + +Of course no one answered. + +“I hope no personal disrespect was intended,” continued the usher. + +Again no answer. + +“Does anyone know who threw it?” asked Mr. Crabb. + +“I think it was the new scholar,” said Jim Smith, with a malicious look +at Hector. + +“Master Roscoe,” said Mr. Crabb, with a pained look, “I hope you have +not started so discreditably in your school life.” + +“No, sir,” answered Hector; “I hope I am not so ungentlemanly. I don’t +like to be an informer, but I saw Smith himself throw it at you. As he +has chosen to lay it to me, I have no hesitation in exposing him.” + +Jim Smith’s face flushed with anger. + +“I’ll get even with you, you young muff!” he said. + +“Whenever you please!” said Hector, disdainfully. + +“Really, young gentlemen, these proceedings are very irregular!” said +Mr. Crabb, feebly. + +With Jim Smith he did not remonstrate at all, though he had no doubt +that Hector’s charge was rightly made. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. THE CLASS IN VIRGIL. + + + +Presently the class in Virgil was called up. To this class Hector had +been assigned, though it had only advanced about half through the third +book of the AEneid, while Hector was in the fifth. + +“As there is no other class in Virgil, Roscoe, you had better join the +one we have. It will do you no harm to review.” + +“Very well, sir,” said Hector. + +The class consisted of five boys, including Hector. Besides Jim Smith, +Wilkins, Bates and Johnson belonged to it. As twenty-five lines had been +assigned for a lesson, Hector had no difficulty in preparing himself, +and that in a brief time. The other boys were understood to have studied +the lesson out of school. + +Bates read first, and did very fairly. Next came Jim Smith, who did +not seem quite so much at home in Latin poetry as on the playground. +He pronounced the Latin words in flagrant violation of all the rules of +quantity, and when he came to give the English meaning, his translation +was a ludicrous farrago of nonsense. Yet, poor Mr. Crabb did not dare, +apparently, to characterize it as it deserved. + +“I don’t think you have quite caught the author’s meaning, Mr. Smith,” + he said. By the way, Jim was the only pupil to whose name he prefixed +the title “Mr.” + +“I couldn’t make anything else out of it,” muttered Jim. + +“Perhaps some other member of the class may have been more successful! +Johnson, how do you read it?” + +“I don’t understand it very well, sir.” + +“Wilkins, were you more successful?” + +“No, sir.” + +“Roscoe, can you translate the passage?” + +“I think so, sir.” + +“Proceed, then.” + +Hector at once gave a clear and luminous rendering of the passage, and +his version was not only correct, but was expressed in decent English. +This is a point in which young classical scholars are apt to fail. + +Mr. Crabb was not in the habit of hearing such good translations, and he +was surprised and gratified. + +“Very well! Very well, indeed, Roscoe,” he said, approvingly. “Mr. +Smith, you may go on.” + +“He’d better go ahead and finish it,” said Smith, sulkily. “He probably +got it out of a pony.” + +My young readers who are in college or classical schools, will +understand that a “pony” is an English translation of a classical +author. + +“He is mistaken!” said Hector, quietly. “I have never seen a translation +of Virgil.” + +Mr. Smith shrugged his shoulders, and drew down the corners of his +mouth, intending thereby to express his incredulity. + +“I hope no boy will use a translation,” said the usher; “it will make +his work easier for the time being, but in the end it will embarrass +him. Roscoe, as you have commenced, you may continue. Translate the +remainder of the passage.” + +Hector did so, exhibiting equal readiness. + +The other boys took their turns, and then words were given out to parse. +Here Jim Smith showed himself quite at sea; though the usher, as it was +evident, selected the easiest words for him, he made a mistake in every +one. Apparently he was by no means certain which of the words were +nouns, and which verbs, and as to the relations which they sustained to +other words in the sentence he appeared to have very little conception. + +At length the recitation was over. It had demonstrated one thing, that +in Latin scholarship Hector was far more accurate and proficient than +any of his classmates, while Jim Smith stood far below all the rest. + +“What in the world can the teacher be thinking of, to keep such an +ignoramus in the class?” thought Hector. “He doesn’t know enough to join +a class in the Latin Reader.” + +The fact was, that Jim Smith was unwilling to give up his place as a +member of the highest class in Latin, because he knew it would detract +from his rank in the school. Mr. Crabb, to whom every recitation was a +torture, had one day ventured to suggest that it would be better to +drop into the Caesar class; but he never ventured to make the suggestion +again, so unfavorably was it received by his backward pupil. He might, +in the case of a different pupil, have referred the matter to the +principal, but Socrates Smith was sure to decide according to the wishes +of his nephew, and did not himself possess knowledge enough of the Latin +tongue to detect his gross mistakes. + +After a time came recess. Hector wished to arrange the books in his +desk, and did not go out. + +Mr. Crabb came up to his desk and said: “Roscoe, I must compliment you +on your scholarship. You enter at the head. You are in advance of all +the other members of the class.” + +“Thank you, sir,” said Hector, gratified. + +“There is one member of the class who is not competent to remain in it.” + +“Yes, sir; I observed that.” + +“But he is unwilling to join a lower class. It is a trial to me to hear +his daily failures, but, perhaps, he would do no better anywhere else. +He would be as incompetent to interpret Caesar as Virgil, I am afraid.” + +“So I should suppose, sir.” + +“By the way, Roscoe,” said the usher, hurriedly; “let me caution you +against irritating Smith. He is the principal’s nephew, and so we give +him more scope.” + +“He seems to me a bully,” said Hector. + +“So he is.” + +“I can’t understand why the boys should give in to him as they do.” + +“He is taller and stronger than the other boys. Besides, he is backed up +by the principal. I hope you won’t get into difficulty with him.” + +“Thank you, Mr. Crabb. Your caution is kindly meant, but I am not afraid +of this Jim--Smith. I am quite able to defend myself if attacked.” + +“I hope so,” said the usher; but he scanned Hector’s physical +proportions doubtfully, and it was very clear that he did not think him +a match for the young tyrant of the school. + +Meanwhile, Jim Smith and his schoolfellows were amusing themselves in +the playground. + +“Where’s that new fellow?” asked Jim, looking back to see whether he had +come out. + +“He didn’t come out,” said Bates. + +Jim nodded his head vigorously: + +“Just as I expected,” he said. “He knows where he is well off.” + +“Do you think he was afraid to come?” asked Bates. + +“To be sure he was. He knew what to expect.” + +“Are you going to thrash him?” asked Johnson. + +“I should say I might.” + +“He’s a very good Latin scholar,” remarked Wilkins. + +“He thinks he is!” sneered Jim. + +“So Mr. Crabb appears to think.” + +“That for old Crabb!” said Jim, contemptuously, snapping his fingers. +“He don’t know much himself. I’ve caught him in plenty of mistakes.” + +This was certainly very amusing, considering Smith’s absolute ignorance +of even the Latin rudiments, but the boys around him did not venture to +contradict him. + +“But it don’t make any difference whether he knows Latin or not,” + proceeded Jim. “He has been impudent to me, and he shall suffer for it. +I was hoping to get a chance at him this recess, but it’ll keep.” + +“You might spoil his appetite for dinner,” said Bates, who was rather a +toady to Jim. + +“That’s just exactly what I expect to do; at any rate, for supper. I’ve +got to have a reckoning with that young muff.” + +The recess lasted fifteen minutes. At the end of that time the +schoolbell rang, and the boys trooped back into the schoolroom. + +Hector sat at his desk looking tranquil and at ease. He alone seemed +unaware of the fate that was destined for him. + + + + +CHAPTER X. DINNER AT SMITH INSTITUTE. + + + +At twelve o’clock the morning session closed. Then came an intermission +of an hour, during which the day scholars either ate lunch brought with +them, or went to their homes in the village to partake of a warm repast. + +At ten minutes past twelve, a red-armed servant girl made her appearance +at the back door looking out on the playground, and rang a huge dinner +bell. The boys dropped their games, and made what haste they could to +the dining room. + +“Now for a feast!” said Wilkins to Hector, significantly. + +“Does Mr. Smith furnish good board?” asked Hector, for he felt the +hunger of a healthy boy who had taken an early breakfast. + +“Good grub?” said Wilkins, making a face. “Wait till you see. Old Sock +isn’t going to ruin himself providing his pupils with the delicacies of +the season.” + +“I’m sorry for that. I am confoundedly hungry.” + +“Hungry!” exclaimed Wilkins. “I’ve been I hungry ever since I came +here.” + +“Is it as bad as that?” asked Hector, rather alarmed. + +“I should say so. I haven’t had a square meal--what I call a square +meal--for four weeks, and that’s just the time since I left home.” + +They had reached the door of the dining-room by this time. + +In the center stood a long table, but there didn’t seem to be much on it +except empty plates. At a side table stood Mrs. Smith, ladling out soup +from a large tureen. + +“That’s the first course,” whispered Wilkins. “I hope you’ll like it.” + +The boys filed in and took seats. The servant girl already referred to +began to bring plates of soup and set before the boys. It was a thin, +unwholesome-looking mixture, with one or two small pieces of meat, about +the size of a chestnut, in each plate, and fragments of potatoes and +carrots. A small, triangular wedge of dry bread was furnished with each +portion of soup. + +“We all begin to eat together. Don’t be in a hurry,” said Wilkins, in a +low tone. + +When all the boys were served, Socrates Smith, who sat in an armchair at +the head of the table, said: + +“Boys, we are now about to partake of the bounties of Providence, let me +hope, with grateful hearts.” + +He touched a hand bell, and the boys took up their soup spoons. + +Hector put a spoonful gingerly into his mouth, and then, stopping short, +looked at Wilkins. His face was evidently struggling not to express +disgust. + +“Is it always as bad?” he asked, in a whisper. + +“Yes,” answered Wilkins, shrugging his shoulders. + +“But you eat it!” + +Wilkins had already swallowed his third spoonful. + +“I don’t want to starve,” answered Wilkins, significantly. “You’ll get +used to it in time.” + +Hector tried to dispose of a second spoonful, but he had to give it up. +At home he was accustomed to a luxurious table, and this meal seemed to +be a mere mockery. Yet he felt hungry. So he took up the piece of bread +at the side of his plate, and, though it was dry, he succeeded in eating +it. + +By this time his left-hand neighbor, a boy named Colburn, had finished +his soup. He looked longingly at Hector’s almost untasted plate. + +“Ain’t you going to eat your soup?” he asked, in a hoarse whisper + +“No.” + +“Give it to me?” + +“Yes.” + +In a trice, Colburn had appropriated Hector’s plate and put his own +empty one in its place. Just after this transfer had been made, Mr. +Smith looked over to where Hector was sitting. He observed the empty +plate, and said to himself: “That new boy has been gorging himself. He +must have a terrible appetite. Well, that’s one good thing, he ain’t +dainty. Some boys turn up their noses at plain, wholesome diet. I didn’t +know but he might.” + +Presently the hand bell rang again, and the soup plates were removed. In +their places were set dinner plates, containing a small section each of +corned beef, with a consumptive-looking potato, very probably “soggy.” + At any rate, this was the case with Hector’s. He succeeded in eating the +meat, but not the potato. + +“Give me your potato?” asked his left-hand neighbor. + +“Yes.” + +It was quickly appropriated. Hector looked with some curiosity at the +boy who did so much justice to boarding-school fare. He was a thin, pale +boy, who looked as if he had been growing rapidly, as, indeed, he had. +This, perhaps, it was that stimulated his appetite. Afterward Hector +asked him if he really liked his meals. + +“No,” he said; “they’re nasty.” + +He was an English boy, which accounted for his use of the last word. + +“You eat them as if you liked them,” remarked Hector. + +“I’m so hungry,” apologized Colburn, mournfully. “I’m always hungry. I +eat to fill up, not ‘cause I like it. I could eat anything.” + +“I believe he could,” said Wilkins, who overheard this conversation. +“Could you eat fried cat, now?” he asked. + +“Yes,” answered Colburn, honestly. “There would be something hearty and +filling about fried cat. I ain’t half full now.” + +It was just after dinner. + +Hector might have said the same thing at the end of his first dinner. +There was, indeed, another course. It consisted of some pale, flabby +apple pie, about half baked. The slices given were about half the size +of those that are ordinarily supplied at private tables and restaurants. +Hector managed to eat the apple, but the crust he was obliged to leave. +He noticed, however, that his fellow pupils were not so fastidious. + +When the last fragment of pie had disappeared, Mr. Smith again rang the +hand bell. + +“Boys,” he said, “we have now satisfied our appetites.” + +“I haven’t,” thought Hector. + +“We have once more experienced the bountiful goodness of Providence in +supplying our material wants. As we sit down to our plain but wholesome +diet, I wonder how many of us are sensible of our good fortune. I wonder +how many of us think of the thousands of poor children, scattered about +the world, who know not where to get their daily bread. You have been +refreshed, and have reinforced your strength; you will soon be ready to +resume your studies, and thus, also, take in a supply of mental food, +for, as you are all aware, or ought to be aware, the mind needs to be +fed as well as the body. There will first be a short season for games +and out-of-door amusements. Mr. Crabb, will you accompany the boys to +the playground and superintend their sports?” + +Mr. Crabb also had participated in the rich feast, and rose with the +same unsatisfied but resigned look which characterized the rest. He led +the way to the playground, and the boys trooped after him. + +“Really, Wilkins,” said Hector, in a low tone, “this is getting serious. +Isn’t there any place outside where one can get something to eat?” + +“There’s a baker’s half a mile away, but you can’t go till after +afternoon session.” + +“Show me the way there, then, and I’ll buy something for both of us.” + +“All right,” said Wilkins, brightening up. + +“By the way, I didn’t see Jim Smith at the table.” + +“No; he eats with his uncle and aunt afterward. You noticed that old +Sock didn’t eat just now.” + +“Yes, I wondered at it.” + +“He has something a good deal better afterward. He wouldn’t like our +dinner any better than we did; but he is better off, for he needn’t eat +it.” + +“So Jim fares better than the rest of us, does he?” + +“Yes, he’s one of the family, you know.” + +Just then pleasant fumes were wafted to the boys’ nostrils, and they saw +through the open window, with feelings that cannot well be described, a +pair of roast chickens carried from the kitchen to the dining-room. + +“See what old Sock and Ma’am Sock are going to have for dinner?” said +Wilkins, enviously. + +“I don’t like to look at it. It is too tantalizing,” said Hector. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. HECTOR RECEIVES A SUMMONS. + + + +It so happened that Hector was well provided with money. During the +life of Mr. Roscoe, whom he regarded as his father, he had a liberal +allowance--liberal beyond his needs--and out of it had put by somewhat +over a hundred dollars. The greater part of this was deposited for +safe-keeping in a savings bank, but he had twenty-five dollars in his +possession. + +At the time he was saving his money, he regarded himself as the heir and +future possessor of the estate, and had no expectation of ever needing +it. It had been in his mind that it would give him an opportunity of +helping, out of his private funds, any deserving poor person who might +apply to him. When the unexpected revelation had been made to him +that he had no claim to the estate, he was glad that he was not quite +penniless. He did not care to apply for money to Allan Roscoe. It would +have been a confession of dependence, and very humiliating to him. + +No sooner was school out, than he asked Wilkins to accompany him to +the baker’s, that he might make up for the deficiencies of Mr. Smith’s +meager table. + +“I suppose, if I guide you, you’ll stand treat, Roscoe?” said Wilkins. + +“Of course.” + +“Then let us go,” said his schoolfellow, with alacrity. “I’d like to get +the taste of that beastly dinner out of my mouth.” + +They found the baker’s, but close beside it was a restaurant, where more +substantial fare could be obtained. + +“Wilkins,” said Hector, “I think I would rather have a plate of meat.” + +“All right! I’m with you.” + +So the two boys went into the restaurant, and ordered plates of roast +beef, which they ate with evident enjoyment. + +“I guess,” said the waiter, grinning, “you two chaps come from the +institute.” + +“Yes,” answered Hector. “What makes you think so?” + +“The way you eat. They do say old Smith half starves the boys.” + +“You’re not far from right,” said Wilkins; “but it isn’t alone the +quantity, but the quality that’s amiss.” + +They ate their dinner, leaving not a crumb, and then rose refreshed. + +“I feel splendid,” said Wilkins. “I just wish I boarded at the +restaurant instead of the doctor’s. Thank you, Roscoe, for inviting me.” + +“All right, Wilkins! We’ll come again some day.” + +Somehow the extra dinner seemed to warm the heart of Wilkins, and +inspire in him a feeling of friendly interest for Hector. + +“I say, Hector, I’ll tell you something.” + +“Go ahead.” + +“You’ve got to keep your eyes open.” + +“I generally do,” answered Hector, smiling, “except at night.” + +“I mean when Jim Smith’s round.” + +“Why particularly when he is around?” + +“Because he means to thrash you.” + +“What for?” + +“You are too independent. You don’t bow down to him, and look up to +him.” + +“I don’t mean to,” said Hector, promptly. + +“If you don’t you’ll see trouble, and that very soon.” + +“Let it come!” said Hector, rather contemptuously. + +“You don’t seem afraid!” said Wilkins, regarding him curiously. + +“Because I am not afraid. Isn’t that a good reason?” + +“You don’t think you can stand up against Jim, do you?” + +“I will see when the time comes.” + +“I shouldn’t be a bit surprised if he were looking out for you at this +very moment, and wondering where you are.” + +It seemed that Wilkins was right. As they approached the school grounds, +John Bates came running to meet them. + +“Where have you been, you two?” he said. + +“To the village,” answered Wilkins. + +“What for?” + +“For a walk,” answered Wilkins, with a warning glance at Hector. It +would have been awkward if the principal had heard that they had been +compelled to eke out their meager dinner at a restaurant. + +“Well, Jim wants you. Leastways, he wants Roscoe.” + +Bates looked as if he expected Roscoe would immediately hasten to comply +with the wishes of the redoubtable Jim. + +“If he wants me, he can come to me,” said Hector, independently. + +“But I say, that won’t do. Jim won’t be satisfied.” + +“Won’t he? I don’t know that that particularly concerns me.” + +“Shall I tell him that?” + +“If you choose.” + +Bates looked as if Hector had been guilty of some enormity. What, defy +the wishes, the mandates, of Jim Smith, the king of the school and the +tyrant of all the small boys! He felt that Hector Roscoe was rushing on +his fate. + +“I advise you to come,” he said, “Jim’s mad with you already, and he’ll +lick you worse if you send him a message like that.” + +“He will probably have to take blows, as well as give them,” said +Hector. + +“Then I am to tell him what you said?” + +“Of course.” + +With a look that seemed to say, “Your fate be on your own head!” Bates +walked away. + +“John Bates is always toadying to Jim,” said Wilkins. “So he’s prime +favorite when Jim is good-natured--when he’s cross, I’ve seen him kick +Bates.” + +“And Bates didn’t resent it?” + +“He didn’t dare to. He’d come round him the next day the same as ever.” + +“Has the boy no self-respect?” asked Hector, in a tone of disgust. + +“He doesn’t seem to have.” + +As soon as school was out, Jim Smith had looked round for the new boy, +who seemed disposed to defy his authority. On account of eating at +different tables, they had not met during the noon intermission. At any +rate, there had not been time to settle the question of subserviency. +Through the afternoon session Jim had been anticipating the signal +punishment which he intended to inflict upon the newcomer. + +“I’ll show him!” he said to himself. “Tomorrow he’ll be singing a +different tune, or I am mistaken.” + +This was the way Jim had been accustomed to break in refractory new +arrivals. The logic of his fist usually proved a convincing argument, +and thus far his supremacy had never been successfully resisted. He +was confident that he would not be interfered with. Secretly, his Uncle +Socrates sympathized with him, and relished the thought that his +nephew, who so strongly resembled him in mind and person, should be +the undisputed boss--to use a word common in political circles--of the +school. He discreetly ignored the conflicts which he knew took place, +and if any luckless boy, the victim of Jim’s brutality, ventured to +appeal to him, the boy soon found that he himself was arraigned, and not +the one who had abused him. + +“Where’s that new boy?” asked Jim, as he left the schoolroom. + +He had not seen our hero’s departure--but his ready tool, Bates, had. + +“I saw him sneaking off with Wilkins,” said Bates. + +“Where did they go?” + +“To the Village, I guess.” + +“They seemed to be in a hurry,” said Jim, with a sneer. + +“They wanted to get out of your way--that is, the new boy did,” + suggested Bates. + +Jim nodded. + +“Likely he did,” he answered. “So he went to the village, did he?” + +“Yes; I saw him.” + +“Well, he’s put it off a little. That boy’s cranky. I’m goin’ to give +him a lesson he won’t forget very soon.” + +“So you will, so you will, Jim,” chuckled Bates. + +“That’s the way I generally take down these boys that put on airs,” + said Jim, complacently. “This Roscoe’s the worst case I’ve had yet. So +Wilkins went off with him, did he?” + +“Yes; I saw them go off together.” + +“I’ll have to give Wilkins a little reminder, then. It won’t be safe to +take up with them that defy me. I’ll just give him a kick to help his +memory.” + +“He won’t like that much, oh, my!” chuckled Bates. + +“When you see them coming, Bates, go and tell Roscoe I want to see him,” + said Jim, with the air of an autocrat. + +“All right, Jim,” said Bates, obediently. + +So he went on his errand, and we know what success he met with. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. THE IMPENDING CONFLICT. + + + +Jim Smith stood leaning indolently against a post, when his emissary, +Bates, returned from his errand. He was experiencing “that stern joy” + which bullies feel just before an encounter with a foeman inferior in +strength, whom they expect easily to master. Several of the boys were +near by--sycophantic followers of Jim, who were enjoying in advance the +rumpus they expected. I am afraid schoolboys do not always sympathize +with the weaker side. In the present instance, there was hardly a boy +who had not at some time or other felt the weight of Jim’s fist, and, as +there is an old saying that “misery loves company,” it was not, perhaps, +a matter of wonder that they looked forward with interest to seeing +another suffer the same ill-treatment which they had on former occasions +received! + +Presently Bates came back. + +Jim looked over his head for the boy whom he expected to see in his +company. + +“Where’s the new boy?” he demanded, with a frown. + +“He won’t come.” + +“Won’t come?” repeated Jim, with an ominous frown. “Did you tell him I +wanted him?” + +“Yes, I did.” + +“And what did he say?” + +“That if you wanted to see him, you could come to him.” + +All the boys regarded each other with looks of surprise. Was it possible +that any boy in Smith Institute could have the boldness to send such a +message to Jim! Most of all, Jim was moved by such a bold defiance of +his authority. For the moment, he could not think of any adequate terms +in which to express his feelings. + +“Did the new boy say that?” he asked, hoarsely. + +“Yes, he did.” + +Jim nodded his head vigorously two or three times. + +“You fellows,” he said, appealing to the boys around him, “did you ever +hear such impudence?” + +“No!” “Never!” exclaimed the boys in concert, Bates being the loudest +and most emphatic. + +“I have never been so insulted since I was at the institute,” said Jim, +again looking about him for a confirmation of his statement. + +“It’s because he’s a new boy. He don’t understand,” suggested one. + +“That’s no excuse,” said Jim, sternly. “He needn’t think I’ll let him +off on that account.” + +“Of course not,” answered Bates. + +“What would you advise me to do, boys?” asked Jim, with the air of a +monarch asking the opinion of his counselors. + +“Thrash him till he can’t stand!” said the subservient Bates. He was +always ready to go farther than anyone else in supporting and defending +the authority of the tyrant of the playground. + +“Bates, you are right. I shall follow your advice,” said Jim. “Where is +the young reprobate?” + +“He is over in Carver’s field.” + +“Is anyone with him?” + +“Yes, Wilkins.” + +“Ha! Wilkins and I will have an account to settle. If he is going to +side with this young rascal he must take the consequences. So, he’s over +in the field, is he? What’s he doing?” + +“I think he was going to walk down to the brook.” + +Carver’s field was a tract, several acres in extent, of pasture land, +sloping down to one corner, where a brook trickled along quietly. Here +three large trees were located, under whose spreading branches the boys, +in the intervals of study, used often to stretch themselves for a chat +or engage in some schoolboy games, such as nimble peg or quoits. The +owner of the field was an easy-going man, who did not appear to be +troubled by the visits of the boys, as long as they did not maltreat the +peaceful cows who gathered their subsistence from the scanty grass that +grew there. + +“He wants to keep out of your way, I guess,” volunteered Bates. + +As this suggestion was flattering to the pride of the “boss,” it was +graciously received. + +“Very likely,” he said; “but he’ll find that isn’t so easy. Boys, follow +me, if you want to see some fun.” + +Jim started with his loose stride for the field, where he expected to +meet his adversary, or, rather, victim, for so he considered him, and +the smaller boys followed him with alacrity. There was going to be a +scrimmage, and they all wanted to see it. + +Jim and his followers issued from the gate, and, crossing the street, +scaled the bars that separated Carver’s field from the highway. Already +they could see the two boys--Roscoe and Wilkins-slowly walking, and +nearly arrived at the brook in the lower part of the field. + +“He doesn’t seem much afraid,” remarked Talbot, one of the recent +comers, incautiously. + +Upon him immediately Jim frowned ominously. + +“So you are taking sides with him, Talbot, are you?” he said, +imperiously. + +“No, Jim,” answered Talbot, hurriedly, for he now saw that he had been +guilty of an imprudence. + +“What made you say he wasn’t scared, then?” + +“I only said he didn’t seem afraid,” answered Talbot, apologetically. + +“Be careful what you say in future, young fellow!” said Jim, sternly; +“that is, if you are a friend of mine. If you are going over to Roscoe, +you can go, and I shall know how to treat you.” + +“But I am not going over to him. I don’t like him,” said the cowardly +boy. + +“Very well; I accept your apology this time. In future be careful what +you say.” + +By this time Wilkins and Roscoe had reached the clump of big trees, and +had seated themselves under their ample branches. Then, for the first +time, glancing backward toward the school, they became aware of the +advancing troop of boys. Wilkins saw them first. + +“There’s Jim coming!” he exclaimed. “Now you are in a pickle. He means +business.” + +“I suppose,” said Hector, coolly, “he has decided to accept my +invitation, and come to see me.” + +“You’ll find he has,” said Wilkins, significantly. + +“He seems to have considerable company,” remarked Hector, scanning the +approaching party with tranquillity. + +“They’re coming to see the fun!” said Wilkins. + +“I suppose you mean the fight between Jim Smith and myself.” + +“Well, not exactly. They’ve come to see you thrashed.” + +Hector smiled. + +“Suppose they should see Jim thrashed instead--what then?” + +“They might be surprised: but I don’t think they will be,” answered +Wilkins, dryly. He was, on the whole, well disposed toward Hector, and +he certainly disliked Jim heartily, but he did not allow his judgment to +be swayed by his preferences, and he could foresee but one issue to the +impending conflict. There was one thing that puzzled him exceedingly, +and that was Hector’s coolness on the brink of a severe thrashing, such +as Jim was sure to give him for his daring defiance and disregard of his +authority. + +“You’re a queer boy, Hector,” he said. “You don’t seem in the least +alarmed.” + +“I am not in the least alarmed,” answered Hector. “Why should I be?” + +“You don’t mind being thrashed, then?” + +“I might mind; but I don’t mean to be thrashed if I can help it.” + +“But you can’t help it, you know.” + +“Well, that will soon be decided.” + +There was no time for any further conversation, for Jim and his +followers were close at hand. + +Jim opened the campaign by calling Hector to account. + +“Look here, you new boy,” he said, “didn’t Bates tell you that I wanted +to see you?” + +“Yes,” answered Hector, looking up, indifferently. + +“Well, why didn’t you come to me at once, hey?” + +“Because I didn’t choose to. I sent word if you wished to see me, to +come where I was.” + +“What do you mean by such impudence, hey?” + +“I mean this, Jim Smith, that you have no authority over me and never +will have. I have not been here long, but I have been here long enough +to find out that you are a cowardly bully and ruffian. How all these +boys can give in to you, I can’t understand.” + +Jim Smith almost foamed at the mouth with rage. + +“You’ll pay for this,” he howled, pulling off his coat, in furious +haste. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. WHO SHALL BE VICTOR? + + + +Hector was not slow to accept the challenge conveyed by his antagonist’s +action. He, too, sprang to his feet, flung off his coat, and stood +facing the bully. + +Hector was three inches shorter, and more than as many years younger, +than Jim. But his figure was well proportioned and strongly put +together, as the boys could see. On the other hand; Jim Smith was +loosely put together, and, though tall, he was not well proportioned. +His arms were long and his movements were clumsy. His frame, however, +was large, and he had considerable strength, but it had never been +disciplined. He had never learned to box, and was ignorant of the first +rudiments of the art of self-defense. But he was larger and stronger +than any of his school-fellows, and he had thus far had no difficulty in +overcoming opposition to his despotic rule. + +The boys regarded the two combatants with intense interest. They could +see that Hector was not alarmed, and meant to defend himself. So there +was likely to be a contest, although they could not but anticipate an +easy victory for the hitherto champion of the school. + +Hector did not propose to make the attack. He walked forward to a +favorable place and took his stand. The position he assumed would have +assured the casual observer that he knew something of the art in which +his larger antagonist was deficient. + +“So you are ready to fight, are you?” said Jim. + +“You can see for yourself.” + +Jim rushed forward, intending to bear down all opposition. He was +whirling his long arms awkwardly, and it was clear to see that he +intended to seize Hector about the body and fling him to the earth. Had +he managed to secure the grip he desired, opposition would have been +vain, and he would have compassed his design. But Hector was far too +wary to allow anything of this kind. He evaded Jim’s grasp by jumping +backward, then dashing forward while his opponent was somewhat unsteady +from the failure of his attempt, he dealt him a powerful blow in the +face. + +Jim Smith was unprepared for such prompt action. He reeled, and came +near falling. It may safely be said, also, that his astonishment was as +great as his indignation, and that was unbounded. + +“So that’s your game, is it?” he exclaimed, furiously. “I’ll pay you for +this, see if I don’t.” + +Hector did not reply. He did not propose to carry on the battle by +words. Already the matter had come to a sterner arbitrament, and he +stood on the alert, all his senses under absolute control, watching his +big antagonist, and, from the expression of his face, seeking to divine +his next mode of attack. He had this advantage over Jim, that he was +cool and collected, while Jim was angry and rendered imprudent by his +anger. Notwithstanding his first repulse, he did not fully understand +that the new boy was a much more formidable opponent than he +anticipated. Nor did he appreciate the advantage which science gives +over brute force. He, therefore, rushed forward again, with the same +impetuosity as before, and was received in precisely the same way. +This time the blood started from his nose and coursed over his inflamed +countenance, while Hector was still absolutely unhurt. + +Meanwhile the boys looked on in decided amazement. It had been as far +as possible from their thoughts that Hector could stand up successfully +against the bully even for an instant. Yet here two attacks had been +made, and the champion was decidedly worsted. They could not believe the +testimony of their eyes. + +Carried away by the excitement of the moment, Wilkins, who, as we have +said, was disposed to espouse the side of Hector, broke into a shout of +encouragement. + +“Good boy, Roscoe!” he exclaimed. “You’re doing well!” + +Two or three of the other boys, those who were least under the +domination of Jim, and were only waiting for an opportunity of breaking +away from their allegiance, echoed the words of Wilkins. If there was +anything that could increase the anger and mortification of the tyrant +it was these signs of failing allegiance. What! was he to lose his hold +over these boys, and that because he was unable to cope with a boy much +smaller and younger than himself? Perish the thought! It nerved him to +desperation, and he prepared for a still more impetuous assault. + +Somewhere in his Greek reader, Hector had met with a saying attributed +to Pindar, that “boldness is the beginning of victory.” He felt that +the time had now come for a decisive stroke. He did not content +himself, therefore, with parrying, or simply repelling the blow of his +antagonist, but he on his part assumed the offensive. He dealt his blows +with bewildering rapidity, pressed upon Jim, skillfully evading the +grasp of his long arms, and in a trice the champion measured his length +upon the greensward. + +Of course, he did not remain there. He sprang to his feet, and renewed +the attack. But he had lost his confidence. He was bewildered, and, to +confess the truth, panic-stricken, and the second skirmish was briefer +than the first. + +When, for the third time, he fell back, with his young opponent standing +erect and vigorous, the enthusiasm of the boys overcame the limits of +prudence. There was a shout of approval, and the fallen champion, to +add to his discomfiture, was forced to listen to his own hitherto +subservient followers shouting, “Hurrah for the new boy! Hurrah for +Hector Roscoe!” + +This was too much for Jim. + +He rose from the ground sullenly, looked about him with indignation +which he could not control, and, shaking his fist, not at one boy in +particular, but at the whole company, exclaimed: “You’ll be sorry for +this, you fellows! You can leave me, and stand by the new boy if you +want to, but you’ll be sorry for it. I’ll thrash you one by one, as I +have often done before.” + +“Try Roscoe first!” said one boy, jeeringly. + +“I’ll try you first!” said Jim; and too angry to postpone his intention, +he made a rush for the offender. + +The latter, who knew he was no match for the angry bully, turned and +fled. Jim prepared to follow him, when he was brought to by Hector +placing himself in his path. + +“Let that boy alone!” he said, sternly. + +“What business is it of yours?” demanded Jim, doggedly; but he did not +offer to renew the attack, however. + +“It will be my business to put an end to your tyranny and bullying,” + said Hector, undauntedly. “If you dare to touch one of these boys, you +will have to meet me as well.” + +Jim had had enough of encountering Hector. He did not care to make a +humiliating spectacle of himself any more before his old flatterers. But +his resources were not at an end. + +“You think yourself mighty smart!” he said, with what was intended to be +withering sarcasm. “You haven’t got through with me yet.” + +He did not, however, offer to pursue the boy who had been the first to +break away from his allegiance. He put on his coat, and turned to walk +toward the school, saying, “You’ll hear from me again, and that pretty +soon!” + +None of his late followers offered to accompany him. He had come to the +contest with a band of friends and supporters. He left it alone. Even +Bates, his most devoted adherent, remained behind, and did not offer to +accompany the discrowned and dethroned monarch. + +“What’s Jim going to do?” asked Talbot. + +“He’s going to tell old Sock, and get us all into trouble.” + +“It’ll be a cowardly thing to do!” said Wilkins. “He’s been fairly +beaten in battle, and he ought to submit to it.” + +“He won’t if he can help it.” + +“I say, boys, three cheers for the new boy!” exclaimed Wilkins. + +They were given with a will, and the boys pressed forward to shake the +hand of the boy whose prowess they admired. + +“Thank you, boys!” said Hector, “but I’d rather be congratulated on +something else. I would rather be a good scholar than a good fighter.” + +But the boys were evidently of a different opinion, and elevated Hector +straightway to the rank of a hero. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. SOCRATES CALLS HECTOR TO ACCOUNT. + + + +Jim Smith, as he walked back to the institute, nursing his wrath, felt +very much like a dethroned king. He was very anxious to be revenged upon +Hector, but the lesson he had received made him cautious. He must get +him into trouble by some means. Should he complain to his uncle? It +would involve the necessity of admitting his defeat, unless he could +gloss over the story in some way. + +This he decided to do. + +On reaching the school he sought his dormitory, and carefully wiped away +the blood from his face. Then he combed his hair and arranged his dress, +and sought his uncle. + +Mr. Smith was at his desk, looking over his accounts, and estimating the +profits of the half year, when his nephew made his appearance. + +“Uncle Socrates, I’d like to speak to you.” + +“Very well, James. Proceed.” + +“I want to complain of the new boy who came this morning.” + +Socrates Smith looked up in genuine surprise. As a general thing, +his nephew brought few complaints, for he took the responsibility of +punishing boys he did not like himself. + +“What! Roscoe?” inquired the principal. + +“Yes.” + +“Is he in any mischief?” + +“Mischief? I should say so! Why, he’s a regular young Turk.” + +“A young Turk? I don’t think I understand you, James.” + +“I mean, he’s a young ruffian.” + +“What has he been doing?” asked Socrates, in surprise. + +“He pitched into me a short time ago,” said Jim, in some embarrassment. + +“Pitched into you! You don’t mean to say that he attacked you?” + +“Yes, I do.” + +“But he’s a considerably smaller boy than you, James. I am surprised +that he should have dared to attack you.” + +“Yes, he is small, but he’s a regular fighter.” + +“I suppose you gave him a lesson?” + +“Ye-es, of course.” + +“So that he won’t be very likely to renew the attack.” + +“Well, I don’t know about that. He’s tough and wiry, and understands +boxing. I found it hard work to thrash him.” + +“But you did thrash him?” said Socrates, puzzled. + +“Yes.” + +“Then what do you want me to do?” + +“I thought you might punish him for being quarrelsome.” + +“It may be a good idea. I remember now that his uncle warned me that he +would need restraining.” + +“Just so, uncle,” said Jim, eagerly. “His uncle was right.” + +“Well, I will give him a lecture. He will find that he cannot behave as +he pleases at Smith Institute,” said Socrates, pompously. “He will find +that I do not tolerate any defiance of authority. I will speak of it +after vespers.” + +“Thank you, uncle.” + +“He’ll get a raking down!” thought Jim, with gratification. “I’ll make +it hot for him here, he may be sure of that.” + +Half an hour after supper was read a brief evening service called +vespers, and then the boys’ study hours commenced. During this time they +were expected to be preparing their lessons for the next day. + +The service was generally read by Socrates Smith, A. M., in person. It +was one of the few official duties he performed, and he was generally +very imposing in his manner on this occasion. + +When the service had been read on that particular evening, the principal +did not immediately give the signal for study to be commenced. Instead, +he cleared his throat, saying: + +“Boys, I have a few words to say to you. This morning a new boy made his +appearance among us. His uncle, or perhaps I should say his guardian, +attracted by the well-deserved fame of Smith Institute, came hither to +enter him among my pupils. I received him cordially, and promised +that he should share with you the rich, the inestimable educational +advantages which our humble seminary affords. I hoped he would be an +acquisition, that by his obedience and his fidelity to duty he would +shed luster on our school.” + +Here Socrates blew his nose sonorously, and resumed: + +“But what has happened? On the very first day of his residence here he +brutally assaults one of our numbers, my nephew, and displays the savage +instincts of a barbarian. His uncle did well to warn me that he would +need salutary restraint.” + +Hector, who had been amused by the solemn and impressive remarks of +Socrates, looked up in surprise. Had Allan Roscoe really traduced him +in this manner, after robbing him of his inheritance, as Hector felt +convinced that he had done? + +“Hector Roscoe!” said Socrates, severely; “stand up, and let me hear +what you have to say for yourself.” + +Hector rose calmly, and faced the principal, by no means awe-stricken at +the grave arraignment to which he had listened. + +“I say this, Mr. Smith,” he answered, “that I did not attack your +nephew till he had first attacked me. This he did without the slightest +provocation, and I defended myself, as I had a right to do.” + +“It’s a lie!” muttered Jim, in a tone audible to his uncle. + +“My nephew’s report is of a different character. I am disposed to +believe him.” + +“I regret to say, sir, that he has made a false statement. I will give +you an account of what actually occurred. On my return from a walk he +sent a boy summoning me to his presence. As he was not a teacher, and +had no more authority over me than I over him, I declined to obey, but +sent word that if he wished to see me he could come where I was. I then +walked down to the brook in Carver’s field. He followed me, as soon +as he had received my message, and, charging me with impertinence, +challenged me to a fight. Well, we had a fight; but he attacked me +first.” + +“I don’t know whether this account is correct or not,” said Socrates, a +little nonplused by this new version of the affair. + +“I am ready to accept the decision of any one of the boys,” said Hector. + +“Bates,” said Socrates, who knew that this boy was an adherent of his +nephew, “is this account of Roscoe’s true?” + +Bates hesitated a moment. He was still afraid of Jim, but when he +thought of Hector’s prowess, he concluded that he had better tell the +truth. + +“Yes, sir,” he answered. + +Jim Smith darted an angry and menacing glance at his failing adherent. + +“Ahem!” said Socrates, looking puzzled: “it is not quite so bad as I +supposed. I regret, however, that you have exhibited such a quarrelsome +disposition.” + +“I don’t think I am quarrelsome, sir,” said Hector. + +“Silence, sir! I have Mr. Allan Roscoe’s word for it.” + +“It appears to me,” said Hector, undauntedly, “that your nephew is at +least as quarrelsome as I am. He forced the fight upon me.” + +“Probably you will not be in a hurry to attack him again,” said +Socrates, under the impression that Hector had got the worst of it. + +Some of the boys smiled, but Socrates did not see it. + +“As you have probably received a lesson, I will not punish you as I had +anticipated. I will sentence you, however, to commit to memory the first +fifty lines of Virgil’s ‘AEneid.’ Mr. Crabb, will you see that Roscoe +performs his penance?” + +“Yes, sir,” said Crabb, faintly. + +“Is your nephew also to perform a penance?” asked Hector, undaunted. + +“Silence, sir! What right have you to question me on this subject?” + +“Because, sir, he is more to blame than I.” + +“I don’t know that. I am not at all sure that your story is correct.” + +Mr. Crabb, meek as he was, was indignant at this flagrant partiality. + +“Mr. Smith,” he said, “I happen to know that Roscoe’s story is strictly +correct, and that your nephew made an unprovoked attack upon him.” + +Hector looked grateful, and Jim Smith furious. + +“Mr. Crabb,” said Socrates, angrily, “I did not ask your opinion. So far +as my nephew is concerned, I will deal with him privately. Boys, you may +begin your studies.” + +All the boys understood that Jim was to be let off, and they thought it +a shame. But Mr. Crabb took care to make Hector’s penance as light as +possible. + +And thus passed the first day at Smith Institute. + + + + +CHAPTER XV. THE USHER CONFIDES IN HECTOR. + + + +Mr. Crabb acted rashly in siding with Hector, and speaking against Mr. +Smith’s nephew. Socrates showed his displeasure by a frigid demeanor, +and by seeking occasions for snubbing his assistant. On the other hand, +Hector felt grateful for his intercession, and an intimacy sprang up +between them. + +A few days afterward, on a half holiday, Mr. Crabb said: “Roscoe, I am +going out for a walk. Do you care to accompany me?” + +“I will do so with pleasure,” said Hector, sincerely. + +“Mr. Crabb,” he said, after they were fairly on their way, “I am sorry +to see that Mr. Smith has not forgiven you for taking my part against +Jim.” + +“I would do it again, Roscoe,” said the usher. “I could not sit silent +while so great an injustice was being done.” + +“Do you think Jim was punished?” + +“I am sure he was not. He is a boy after Mr. Smith’s own heart, that +is, he possesses the same mean and disagreeable qualities, perhaps in a +greater degree. Has he interfered with you since?” + +“No,” answered Hector, smiling; “he probably found that I object to +being bullied.” + +“You are fortunate in being strong enough to withstand his attacks.” + +“Yes,” said Hector, quietly; “I am not afraid of him.” + +“Bullies are generally cowards,” said the usher. + +“I wonder, Mr. Crabb, you are willing to stay at Smith Institute, as +usher to such a man as Mr. Smith.” + +“Ah, Roscoe!” said Mr. Crabb, sighing; “it is not of my own free will +that I stay. Poverty is a hard task-master. I must teach for a living.” + +“But surely you could get a better position?” + +“Perhaps so; but how could I live while I was seeking for it. My lad,” + he said, after a pause, “I have a great mind to confide in you; I want +one friend to whom I can talk unreservedly.” + +“Mr. Crabb,” said Hector, earnestly, “I shall feel flattered by your +confidence.” + +“Thank you, Roscoe; or, rather, since we are going to be friends, let me +distinguish you from the other boys and call you Hector.” + +“I wish you would, sir.” + +“I need not tell you that I am poor,” continued Mr. Crabb; “you can read +it in my shabby clothes. I sometimes see the boys looking at my poor +suit, as if they wondered why I dressed so badly. Smith has more than +once cast insulting looks at my rusty coat. It is not penuriousness, as +some of the boys may think--it is poverty that prevents me from attiring +myself more becomingly.” + +“Mr. Crabb, I sympathize with you,” said Hector. + +“Thank you, Hector. Of that I am sure.” + +“Mr. Smith ought to pay you enough to clothe yourself neatly. He makes +you work hard enough.” + +“He pays me twenty dollars a month,” said the usher; “twenty dollars and +my board.” + +“Is that all?” asked Hector, in amazement. “Why, the girl in the kitchen +earns nearly that.” + +“To be sure,” answered the usher, bitterly; “but in Mr. Smith’s +estimation, I stand very little higher. He does not value education, not +possessing it himself. However, you may wonder why, even with this +sum, I cannot dress better. It is because I have another than myself to +support.” + +“You are not married?” asked Hector, in surprise. + +“No; but I have an invalid sister, who is wholly dependent upon me. To +her I devote three-quarters of my salary, and this leaves me very little +for myself. My poor sister is quite unable to earn anything for herself, +so it is a matter of necessity.” + +“Yes, I understand,” said Hector, in a tone of sympathy. + +“You now see why I do not dare to leave this position, poor as it is. +For myself, I might take the risk, but I should not feel justified in +exposing my sister to the hazard of possible want.” + +“You are right, Mr. Crabb. I am very sorry now that you spoke up for me. +It has prejudiced Mr. Smith against you.” + +“No, no; I won’t regret that. Indeed, he would hesitate to turn me +adrift, for he would not be sure of getting another teacher to take my +place for the same beggarly salary.” + +“Something may turn up for you yet, Mr. Crabb,” said Hector, hopefully. + +“Perhaps so,” answered the usher, but his tone was far from sanguine. + +When they returned to the school, Hector carried out a plan which had +suggested itself to him in the interest of Mr. Crabb. He wrote to a boy +of his acquaintance, living in New York, who, he had heard, was in want +of a private tutor, and recommended Mr. Crabb, in strong terms, for that +position. He did this sincerely, for he had found the usher to be a good +teacher, and well versed in the studies preparatory to college. He did +not think it best to mention this to Mr. Crabb, for the answer might be +unfavorable, and then his hopes would have been raised only to be dashed +to the earth. + +Later in the day, Hector fell in with Bates, already referred to as a +special friend of Jim Smith. The intimacy, however, had been diminished +since the contest in which Hector gained the victory. Bates was not +quite so subservient to the fallen champion, and Jim resented it. + +“I saw you walking out with old Crabb,” said Bates. + +“He isn’t particularly old,” said Hector. + +“Oh, you know what I mean. Did you ever see such a scarecrow?” + +“Do you refer to his dress?” asked Hector. + +“Yes; he’ll soon be in rags. I shouldn’t wonder at all if that old suit +of his was worn by one of Noah’s sons in the ark.” + +“You don’t suppose he wears it from choice, do you?” + +“I don’t know. He’s stingy, I suppose--afraid to spend a cent.” + +“You are mistaken. He has a sister to support, and his salary is very +small.” + +“I can believe that. Old Sock is mean with his teachers. How much does +he pay Crabb?” + +“It is very little, but I don’t know that I ought to tell.” + +“I say, though, Roscoe, I wouldn’t go to walk with him again.” + +“Why not?” + +“The boys will say that, you are trying to get into his good graces, so +he’ll let you off easy in your lessons.” + +“I don’t want him to let me off easy; I generally intend to be +prepared.” + +“I know, but that’s what they will say.” + +“Let them say what they please, and I will do what I please,” said +Hector, independently. + +“Old Sock ain’t any too fond of Crabb since he took your part the other +day. Jim says the old man means to bounce him before long.” + +“I suppose that means discharge him.” + +“It means giving him his walking papers. Jim will see that he does it, +too.” + +Hector did not reply, but he felt more than ever glad that he had +written a letter which might possibly bring the poor usher more +profitable and, at the same time, agreeable employment. + +“Jim doesn’t like you, either,” added Bates. + +“I never supposed he did. I can do without his favor.” + +“He will get you into a scrape if he can.” + +“I have no doubt whatever of his benevolent intentions toward me. I +shall not let it interfere with my happiness.” + +Just then a sharp cry was heard, as of a boy in pain. It came from the +school yard, which the two boys were approaching on their return from a +walk. + +“What’s that?” asked Hector, quickly. + +“I expect it’s the new boy.” + +One had arrived the day before. + +“Is he hurt, I wonder?” asked Hector, quickening his steps. + +“Jim’s got hold of him, probably,” said Bates; “he said this morning +he was going to give the little chap a lesson to break him into school +ways.” + +“He did, did he?” said Hector, compressing his lips. “I shall have +something to say to that,” and he quickened his steps. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. TOSSED IN A BLANKET. + + + +The last new boy was a little fellow only eleven years old. His name was +Tommy Cooper, as he was called at home. It was his first absence from +the sheltering care of his mother, and he felt lonesome in the great, +dreary school building, where he was called “Cooper,” and “you little +chap.” He missed the atmosphere of home, and the tenderness of his +mother and sister. In fact, the poor boy was suffering from that most +distressing malady, homesickness. + +Had Mrs. Socrates Smith been a kind, motherly woman, she might have done +much to reconcile the boy to his new home; but she was a tall, gaunt, +bony woman, more masculine than feminine, not unlike Miss Sally Brass, +whom all readers of Dickens will remember. + +I am sorry to say that a homesick boy in a boarding school does not meet +with much sympathy. Even those boys who have once experienced the same +malady are half ashamed of it, and, if they remember it at all, remember +it as a mark of weakness. There was but one boy who made friendly +approaches to Tommy, and this was Hector Roscoe. + +Hector had seen the little fellow sitting by himself with a sad face, +and he had gone up to him, and asked him in a pleasant tone some +questions about himself and his home. + +“So you have never been away from home before, Tommy,” he said. + +“No, sir,” answered the boy, timidly. + +“Don’t call me sir. I am only a boy like you. Call me Hector.” + +“That is a strange name. I never heard it before.” + +“No, it is not a common name. I suppose you don’t like school very +much?” + +“I never shall be happy here,” sighed Tommy. + +“You think so now, but you will get used to it.” + +“I don’t think I shall.” + +“Oh, yes, you will. It will never seem like home, of course, but you +will get acquainted with some of the boys, and will join in their games, +and then time will pass more pleasantly.” + +“I think the boys are very rough,” said the little boy. + +“Yes, they are rough, but they don’t mean unkindly. Some of them were +homesick when they came here, just like you.” + +“Were you homesick?” asked Tommy, looking up, with interest. + +“I didn’t like the school very well; but I was much older than you when +I came here, and, besides, I didn’t leave behind me so pleasant a home. +I am not so rich as you, Tommy. I have no father nor mother,” and for +the moment Hector, too, looked sad. + +The little fellow became more cheerful under the influence of Hector’s +kind and sympathetic words. Our hero, however, was catechised about his +sudden intimacy with the new scholar. + +“I see you’ve got a new situation, Roscoe,” said Bates, when Hector was +walking away. + +“What do you mean?” + +“You’ve secured the position of nurse to that little cry baby.” + +“You mean Tommy Cooper?” + +“Yes, if that’s his name.” + +“I was cheering up the little fellow a bit. He’s made rather a bad +exchange in leaving a happy home for Smith Institute.” + +“That’s so. This is a dreary hole, but there’s no need of crying about +it.” + +“You might if you were as young as Tommy, and had just come.” + +“Shall you take him under your wing?” + +“Yes, if he needs it.” + +We now come to the few minutes preceding the return of Hector from his +walk, as indicated in the last chapter. + +Tommy Cooper was sitting in the school yard, with a disconsolate look, +when Jim Smith, who was never happier than when he was bullying other +boys, espied him. + +“What’s the matter with you, young one?” he said, roughly, “Is your +grandmother dead?” + +“No,” answered Tommy, briefly. + +“Come here and play.” + +“I would rather not.” + +“I am not going to have you sulking round here. Do you hear me?” + +“Are you one of the teachers?” asked Tommy, innocently. + +“You’ll find out who I am,” answered Jim, roughly. “Here, Palmer, do you +want a little fun with this young one?” + +Palmer and Bates were Jim Smith’s most devoted adherents. + +“What are you going to do, Jim?” questioned Palmer. + +“I’m going to stir him up a little,” said Jim, with a malicious smile. +“Go and get a blanket.” + +“All right!” said Palmer. + +“We’ll toss him in a blanket. He won’t look so sulky after we get +through with him.” + +There were two or three other boys standing by, who heard these words. + +“It’s a shame!” said one, in a low voice. “See the poor little chap, how +sad he looks! I felt just as he does when I first came to school.” + +“Jim ought not to do it,” said the second. “It’s a mean thing to do.” + +“Tell him so.” + +“No, thank you. He’d treat me the same way.” + +The two speakers were among the smaller boys, neither being over +fourteen, and though they sympathized with Tommy, their sympathy was not +likely to do him any good. + +Out came Palmer with the blanket. + +“Are there any teachers about?” asked Jim. + +“No.” + +“That’s good. We shan’t be interfered with. Here, young one, come here.” + +“What for?” asked Tommy, looking frightened. + +“Come here, and you’ll find out.” + +But Tommy had already guessed. He had read a story of English school +life, in which a boy had been tossed in a blanket, and he was not slow +in comprehending the situation. + +“Oh, don’t toss me in a blanket!” said the poor boy, clasping his hands. + +“Sorry to disturb you, but it’s got to be done, young one,” said Jim. +“Here, jump in. It’ll do you good.” + +“Oh, don’t!” sobbed the poor boy. “It’ll hurt me.” + +“No, it won’t! Don’t be a cry baby. We’ll make a man of you.” + +But Tommy was not persuaded. He jumped up, and tried to make his escape. +But, of course, there was no chance for him. Jim Smith overtook him in a +couple of strides, and seizing him roughly by the collar, dragged him +to the blanket, which by this time Palmer and one of the other boys, who +had been impressed into the service reluctantly, were holding. + +Jim Smith, taking up Tommy bodily, threw him into the blanket, and then +seizing one end, gave it a violent toss. Up went the boy into the air, +and tumbling back again into the blanket was raised again. + +“Raise him, boys!” shouted Jim. “Give him a hoist!” + +Then it was that Tommy screamed, and Hector heard his cry for help. + +He came rushing round the corner of the building, and comprehended, at a +glance, what was going on. + +Naturally his hot indignation was much stirred. + +“For shame, you brutes!” he cried. “Stop that!” + +If there was anyone whom Jim Smith did not want to see at this moment, +it was Hector Roscoe. He would much rather have seen one of the ushers. +He saw that he was in a scrape, but his pride would not allow him to +back out. + +“Keep on, boys!” he cried. “It’s none of Roscoe’s business. He’d better +clear out, or we’ll toss him.” + +As he spoke he gave another toss. + +“Save me, Hector!” cried Tommy, espying his friend’s arrival with joy. + +Hector was not the boy to let such an appeal go unheeded. He sprang +forward, dealt Jim Smith a powerful blow, that made him stagger, and let +go the blanket, and then helped Tommy to his feet. + +“Run into the house. Tommy!” he said. “There may be some rough work +here.” + +He faced round just in time to fend off partially a blow from the angry +bully. + +“Take that for your impudence!” shouted Jim Smith. “I’ll teach you to +meddle with, me.” + +But Jim reckoned without his host. The blow was returned with interest, +and, in the heat of his indignation, Hector followed it up with such +a volley that the bully retreated in discomfiture, and was glad to +withdraw from the contest. + +“I’ll pay you for this, you scoundrel!” he said, venomously. + +“Whenever you please, you big brute!” returned Hector, contemptuously. +“It is just like you to tease small boys. If you annoy Tommy Cooper +again, you’ll hear from me.” + +“I’d like to choke that fellow!” muttered Jim. “Either he or I will have +to leave this school.” + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. JIM SMITH’S REVENGE. + + + +It would be natural to suppose that Jim Smith, relying upon his +influence with his uncle, would have reported this last “outrage,” as he +chose to consider it, to the principal, thus securing the punishment of +Hector. But he was crafty, and considered that no punishment Hector was +likely to receive would satisfy him. Corporal punishment for taking the +part of an ill-used boy, Hector was probably too spirited to submit to, +and, under these circumstances, it would hardly have been inflicted. +Besides, Jim was aware that the offense for which Hector had attacked +him was not likely, if made known, to secure sympathy. Even his uncle +would be against him, for he was fond of money, and had no wish to lose +the new pupil, whose friends were well able to pay for him. + +No! He decided that what he wanted was to bring Hector into disgrace. +The method did not immediately occur to him, but after a while he saw +his way clear. + +His uncle’s bedchamber was on the second floor, and Jim’s directly over +it on the third story. Some of the other boys, including Hector, had +rooms also on the third floor. + +Jim was going upstairs one day when, through the door of his uncle’s +chamber, which chanced to be open, he saw a wallet lying on the bureau. +On the impulse of the moment, he walked in on tiptoes, secured the +wallet, and slipped it hurriedly into his pocket. Then he made all haste +upstairs, and bolted himself into his own room. Two other boys slept +there, but both were downstairs in the playground. + +Jim took the wallet from his pocket and eagerly scanned the contents. +There were eight five-dollar bills and ten dollars in small bills, +besides a few papers, which may be accurately described as of no value +to anyone but the owner. + +The boy’s face assumed a covetous look. He, as well as his uncle, was +fond of money--a taste which, unfortunately, as he regarded it, he was +unable to gratify. His family was poor, and he was received at half +price by Socrates Smith on the score of relationship, but his allowance +of pocket money was less than that of many of the small boys. He made +up the deficiency, in part, by compelling them to contribute to his +pleasures. If any boy purchased candy, or any other delicacy, Jim, if he +learned the fact, required him to give him a portion, just as the feudal +lords exacted tribute from their serfs and dependents. Still, this was +not wholly satisfactory, and Jim longed, instead, for a supply of money +to spend as he chose. + +So the thought came to him, as he scanned the contents of the wallet: +“Why shouldn’t I take out one or two of these bills before disposing of +it? No one will lay it to me.” + +The temptation proved too strong for Jim’s power of resistance. He +selected a five-dollar bill and five dollars in small bills, and +reluctantly replaced the rest of the money in the wallet. + +“So far, so good!” he thought. “That’s a good idea.” + +Then, unlocking the door, he passed along the entry till he came to the +room occupied by Hector. As he or one of the two boys who roomed with +him might be in the room, he looked first through the keyhole. + +“The coast is clear!” he said to himself, in a tone of satisfaction. + +Still, he opened the door cautiously, and stepped with catlike tread +into the room. Then he looked about the room. Hanging on nails were +several garments belonging to the inmates of the room. Jim selected a +pair of pants which he knew belonged to Hector, and hurrying forward, +thrust the wallet into one of the side pockets. Then, with a look of +satisfaction, he left the room, shutting the door carefully behind him. + +“There,” he said to himself, with exultation. “That’ll fix him! Perhaps +he’ll wish he hadn’t put on quite so many airs.” + +He was rather annoyed, as he walked along the corridor, back to his +own room, to encounter Wilkins. He had artfully chosen a time when he +thought all the boys would be out, and he heartily wished that some +untoward chance had not brought Wilkins in. + +“Where are you going, Jim?” asked Wilkins. + +“I went to Bates’ room, thinking he might be in, but he wasn’t.” + +“Do you want him? I left him out on the playground.” + +“Oh, it’s no matter! It’ll keep!” said Jim, indifferently. + +“I got out of that pretty well!” he reflected complacently. + +Perhaps Jim Smith would not have felt quite so complacent, if he had +known that at the time he entered Hector’s room it was occupied, though +he could not see the occupant. It so chanced that Ben Platt, one of +Hector’s roommates, was in the closet, concealed from the view of anyone +entering the room, yet so placed that he could see through the partially +open door what wras passing in the room. + +When he saw Jim Smith enter he was surprised, for he knew that that +young man was not on visiting terms with the boy who had discomfited and +humiliated him. + +“What on earth can Jim want?” he asked himself. + +He did not have long to wait for an answer though not a real one; but +actions, as men have often heard, speak louder than words. + +When he saw Jim steal up to Hector’s pants, and producing a wallet, +hastily thrust it into one of the pockets, he could hardly believe the +testimony of his eyes. + +“Well!” he ejaculated, inwardly, “I would not have believed it if I +hadn’t seen it. I knew Jim was a bully and a tyrant, but I didn’t think +he was as contemptible as all that.” + +The wallet he recognized at once, for he had more than once seen +Socrates take it out of his pocket. + +“It’s old Sock’s wallet!” he said to himself. “It’s clear that Jim has +taken it, and means to have it found in Roscoe’s possession. That’s as +mean a trick as I ever heard of.” + +Just then Wilkins entered the room. Wilkins and Ben Platt were Hector’s +two roommates. + +“Hello, Wilkins! I’m glad you’ve come just as you have.” + +“What for, Platt? Do you want to borrow some money?” + +“No; there is more money in this room now than there has been for a long +time.” + +“What do you mean? The governor hasn’t sent you a remittance, has he?” + +“No.” + +“Expound your meaning, then, most learned and mysterious chum.” + +“I will. Within five minutes Jim Smith has been here and left a wallet +of money.” + +“Jim been here? I met him in the corridor.” + +“I warrant he didn’t say he had been here.” + +“No; he said he had been to Bates’ room, but didn’t find him there.” + +“That’s all gammon! Wilkins, what will you say when I tell you that old +Sock’s wallet is in this very room!” + +“I won’t believe it!” + +“Look here, then!” + +As he spoke, Ben went to Hector’s pants and drew out the wallet. + +Wilkins started in surprise and dismay. + +“How did Roscoe come by that?” he asked; “surely he didn’t take it?” + +“Of course he didn’t. You might know Roscoe better. Didn’t you hear me +say just now that Jim brought it here?” + +“And put it in Roscoe’s pocket?” + +“Yes.” + +“In your presence?” + +“Yes; only he didn’t know that I was present,” said Platt. + +“Where were you?” + +“In the closet. The door was partly open, and I saw everything.” + +“What does it all mean?” + +“Can’t you see? It’s Jim’s way of coming up with Roscoe. You know he +threatened that he’d fix him.” + +“All I can say is, that it’s a very mean way,” said Wilkins in disgust. + +He was not a model boy--far from it, indeed!--but he had a sentiment of +honor that made him dislike and denounce a conspiracy like this. + +“It’s a dirty trick,” he said, warmly. + +“I agree with you on that point.” “What shall we do about it?” + +“Lay low, and wait till the whole thing comes out. When Sock discovers +his loss, Jim will be on hand to tell him where his wallet is. Then we +can up and tell all we know.” + +“Good! There’s a jolly row coming!” said Wilkins, smacking his lips. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. THE MISSING WALLET IS FOUND. + + + +Socrates Smith was, ordinarily, so careful of his money, that it was a +very remarkable inadvertence to leave it on the bureau. Nor was it long +before he ascertained his loss. He was sitting at his desk when his +wife looked in at the door, and called for a small sum for some domestic +expenditure. + +With an ill grace--for Socrates hated to part with his money--he put his +hand into the pocket where he usually kept his wallet. + +“Really, Mrs. Smith,” he was saying, “it seems to me you are always +wanting money--why, bless my soul!” and such an expression of +consternation and dismay swept over his face, that his wife hurriedly +inquired: + +“What is the matter, Mr. Smith?” + +“Matter enough!” he gasped. “My wallet is gone!” + +“Gone!” echoed his wife, in alarm. “Where can you have left it?” + +Mr. Smith pressed his hand to his head in painful reflection. + +“How much money was there in it, Socrates?” asked his wife. + +“Between forty and fifty dollars!” groaned Mr. Smith. “If I don’t find +it, Sophronia, I am a ruined man!” + +This was, of course, an exaggeration, but it showed the poignancy of the +loser’s regret. + +“Can’t you think where you left it?” + +Suddenly Mr. Smith’s face lighted up. + +“I remember where I left it, now,” he said; “I was up in the chamber an +hour since, and, while changing my coat, took out my wallet, and laid it +on the bureau. I’ll go right up and look for it.” + +“Do, Socrates.” + +Mr. Smith bounded up the staircase with the agility of a man of half +his years, and hopefully opened the door of his chamber, which Jim had +carefully closed after him. His first glance was directed at the bureau, +but despair again settled down sadly upon his heart when he saw that it +was bare. There was no trace of the missing wallet. + +“It may have fallen on the carpet,” said Socrates, hope reviving +faintly. + +There was not a square inch of the cheap Kidderminster carpet that he +did not scan earnestly, greedily, but, alas! the wallet, if it had ever +been there, had mysteriously taken to itself locomotive powers, and +wandered away into the realm of the unknown and the inaccessible. + +Yet, searching in the chambers of his memory, Mr. Smith felt sure that +he had left the wallet on the bureau. He could recall the exact moment +when he laid it down, and he recollected that he had not taken it again. + +“Some one has taken it!” he decided; and wrath arose in his heart, He +snapped his teeth together in stern anger, as he determined that +he would ferret out the miserable thief, and subject him to condign +punishment. + +Mrs. Smith, tired of waiting for the appearance of her husband, ascended +the stairs and entered his presence. + +“Well?” she said. + +“I haven’t found it,” answered Socrates, tragically. “Mrs. Smith, the +wallet has been stolen!” + +“Are you sure that you left it here?” asked his wife. + +“Sure!” he repeated, in a hollow tone. “I am as sure as that the sun +rose to-morrow--I mean yesterday.” + +“Was the door open?” + +“No; but that signifies nothing. It wasn’t locked, and anyone could +enter.” + +“Is it possible that we have a thief in the institute?” said Mrs. Smith, +nervously. “Socrates, I shan’t sleep nights. Think of the spoons!” + +“They’re only plated.” + +“And my earrings.” + +“You could live without earrings. Think, rather, of the wallet, with +nearly fifty dollars in bills.” + +“Who do you think took it, Socrates?” + +“I have no idea; but I will find out. Yes, I will find out. Come +downstairs, Mrs. Smith; we will institute inquiries.” + +When Mr. Smith had descended to the lower floor, and was about entering +the office, it chanced that his nephew was just entering the house. + +“What’s the matter, Uncle Socrates?” he asked; “you look troubled.” + +“And a good reason why, James; I have met with a loss.” + +“You don’t say so!” exclaimed Jim, in innocent wonder; “what is it?” + +“A wallet, with a large amount of money in it!” + +“Perhaps there is a hole in your pocket,” suggested Jim. + +“A hole--large enough for my big wallet to fall through! Don’t be such a +fool!” + +“Excuse me, uncle,” said Jim, meekly; “of course that is impossible. +When do you remember having it last?” + +Of course Socrates told the story, now familiar to us, and already +familiar to his nephew, though he did not suspect that. + +Jim struck his forehead, as if a sudden thought had occurred to him. + +“Could it be?” he said, slowly, as if to himself; “no, I can’t believe +it.” + +“Can’t believe what?” demanded Socrates, impatiently; “if you have any +clew, out with it!” + +“I hardly like to tell, Uncle Socrates, for it implicates one of the +boys.” + +“Which?” asked Mr. Smith, eagerly. + +“I will tell you, though I don’t like to. Half an hour since, I was +coming upstairs, when I heard a door close, as I thought, and, directly +afterward, saw Hector Roscoe hurrying up the stairs to the third floor. +I was going up there myself, and followed him. Five minutes later +he came out of his room, looking nervous and excited. I didn’t think +anything of it at the time, but I now think that he entered your room, +took the wallet, and then carried it up to his own chamber and secreted +it.” + +“Hector Roscoe!” repeated Mr. Smith, in amazement. “I wouldn’t have +supposed that he was a thief.” + +“Nor I; and perhaps he isn’t. It might be well, however, to search his +room.” + +“I will!” answered Socrates, with eagerness, “Come up, James, and you, +Mrs. Smith, come up, too!” + +The trio went upstairs, and entered poor Hector’s room. It was not +unoccupied, for Ben Platt and Wilkins were there. They anticipated a +visit, and awaited it with curious interest. They rose to their feet +when the distinguished visitors arrived. + +“Business of importance brings us here,” said Socrates. “Platt and +Wilkins, you may leave the room.” + +The boys exchanged glances, and obeyed. + +“Wilkins,” said Ben, when they were in the corridor, “it is just as I +thought. Jim has set a trap for Roscoe.” + +“He may get caught himself,” said Wilkins. “I ain’t oversqueamish, but +that is too confounded mean! Of course you’ll tell all you know?” + +“Yes; and I fancy it will rather surprise Mr. Jim. I wish they had let +us stay in there.” + +Meanwhile, Jim skillfully directed the search. + +“He may have put it under the mattress,” suggested Jim. + +Socrates darted to the bed, and lifted up the mattress, but no wallet +revealed itself to his searching eyes. + +“No; it is not here!” he said, in a tone of disappointment; “the boy may +have it about him. I will send for him.” + +“Wait a moment, Uncle Socrates,” said Jim; “there is a pair of pants +which I recognize as his.” + +Mr. Smith immediately thrust his hand into one of the pockets and drew +out the wallet! + +“Here it is!” he exclaimed, joyfully. “Here it is!” + +“Then Roscoe is a thief! I wouldn’t have thought it!” said Jim. + +“Nor I. I thought the boy was of too good family to stoop to such a +thing. But now I remember, Mr. Allan Roscoe told me he was only adopted +by his brother. He is, perhaps, the son of a criminal.” + +“Very likely!” answered Jim, who was glad to believe anything derogatory +to Hector. + +“What are you going to do about it, uncle?” + +“I shall bring the matter before the school. I will disgrace the boy +publicly,” answered Socrates Smith, sternly. “He deserves the exposure.” + +“Aha, Master Roscoe!” said Jim, gleefully, to himself; “I rather think I +shall get even with you, and that very soon.” + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. A DRAMATIC SCENE. + + + +It was generally after vespers that Mr. Smith communicated to the school +anything which he desired to call to their attention. This was to be the +occasion of bringing our hero into disgrace. + +The boys assembled, most of them quite ignorant that anything +exceptional was to occur. Hector himself, the person chiefly interested, +was entirely unconscious that he was to be made “a shining mark” for +the arrows of suspicion and obloquy. If he had noticed the peculiar and +triumphantly malicious looks with which Jim Smith, the bully and tyrant, +whom he had humiliated and deposed, regarded him, he might have been led +to infer that some misfortune was in store for him. But these looks he +did not chance to notice. + +There were two other boys, however, who did notice them. These were Ben +Platt and Wil-kins, who had very good reasons, as we know, for doing so. + +“I believe old Sock is going to pitch into Roscoe at vespers,” said Ben, +in a whisper, to his roommate. + +“So do I. There’s a look about him like that of a tiger about to pounce +on his prey.” + +“Or a cat with murderous designs on a mouse.” + +“We must expose the whole thing.” + +“Of course.” + +“Won’t Jim be mad?” + +“Let him! He won’t dare to thrash us while Roscoe is round.” + +There was, indeed, about Socrates Smith an air of mystery, portentous +and suggestive. He looked like one meditating a coup d’etat, or, +perhaps, it might better be said, a coup de main, as the hand is with +schoolmasters, generally, the instrument of attack. + +When the proper time arrived, Mr. Smith cleared his throat, as he always +did before beginning to speak. + +“Boys,” he said, “I have an important, and I may say, a painful, +communication to make to you.” + +All the boys looked at each other in curiosity, except the three who +were already in the secret. + +“You know, boys,” continued Socrates, “how proud I am of this institute, +how zealous I am for its good reputation, how unwearied I am in my +efforts for your progress and welfare.” + +Mr. Smith’s unwearied efforts were largely in the line of making out and +receipting bills for tuition, and it may be said that this was to him by +far the most agreeable of the duties he undertook to perform. + +“I have been proud of my pupils,” continued the principal, “and it has +given me pleasure to reflect that you all reflected credit, more or +less, upon my teaching. I have, also, sought to form your manners, to +train you to fill the positions which Providence may have in store for +you. In a word, while from time to time you may have indulged in little +escapades, slightly-culpable, I have felt that you were all gentlemen.” + +“What in the world does he mean?” thought more than one puzzled boy. +“What is all this leading to?” + +Among those to whom this thought occurred, was Hector Roscoe, who was +very far from conjecturing that all this long preamble was to introduce +an attack upon him. + +“But,” proceeded Socrates, after a pause, “I have this afternoon been +painfully undeceived. I have learned, with inexpressible pain, that +Smith Institute has received an ineffaceable stigma.” + +“Old Sock is getting eloquent!” whispered Ben Platt. + +“I have learned,” continued Socrates, with tragic intensity, “that I +have nourished a viper in my bosom! I have learned that we have a thief +among us!” + +This declaration was greeted with a buzz of astonishment. Each boy +looked at his next door neighbor as if to inquire, “Is it you?” + +Each one, except the three who were behind the scenes. Of these, Jim +Smith, with an air of supreme satisfaction, looked in a sidelong way at +Hector, unconscious the while that two pairs of eyes--those of Wilkins +and Ben Platt--were fixed upon him. + +“I thought you would be surprised,” said the principal, “except, of +course, the miserable criminal. But I will not keep you in suspense. +To-day, by inadvertence, I left my wallet, containing a considerable +sum of money, on the bureau in my chamber. An hour later, discovering +my loss, I went upstairs, but the wallet was gone. It had mysteriously +disappeared. I was at a loss to understand this at first, but I soon +found a clew. I ascertained that a boy--a boy who is presently one of +the pupils of Smith Institute--had entered my chamber, had appropriated +the wallet, had carried it to his dormitory, and there had slyly +concealed it in the pocket of a pair of pants. Doubtless, he thought his +theft would not be discovered, but it was, and I myself discovered the +missing wallet in its place of concealment.” + +Here Mr. Smith paused, and it is needless to say that the schoolroom +was a scene of great excitement. His tone was so impressive, and +his statement so detailed, that no one could doubt that he had most +convincing evidence of the absolute accuracy of what he said. + +“Who was it?” every boy had it on his lips to inquire. + +“Three hours have elapsed since my discovery,” continued Mr. Smith. +“During that time I have felt unnerved. I have, however, written and +posted an account of this terrible discovery to the friends of the pupil +who has so disgraced himself and the school.” + +Ben Platt and Wilkins exchanged glances of indignation. They felt that +Mr. Smith had been guilty of a piece of outrageous injustice in acting +thus before he had apprised the supposed offender of the charge against +him, and heard his defense. Both boys decided that they would not spare +Jim Smith, but at all hazards expose the contemptible plot which he had +contrived against his schoolfellow. + +“I waited, however, till I was somewhat more calm before laying the +matter before you. I know you will all be anxious to know the name of +the boy who has brought disgrace upon the school to which you belong, +and I am prepared to reveal it to you. Hector Roscoe, stand up!” + +If a flash of lightning had struck him where he sat, Hector could not +have been more astonished. For a moment he was struck dumb, and did not +move. + +“Stand up, Hector Roscoe!” repeated the principal. “No wonder you sit +there as if paralyzed. You did not expect that so soon your sin would +find you out.” + +Then Hector recovered completely his self-possession. He sprang to his +feet, and not only that, but he strode forward, blazing with passion, +till he stood before Mr. Smith’s desk and confronted him. + +“Mr. Smith!” he said, in a ringing tone, “do I understand you to charge +me with stealing a wallet of yours containing money?” + +“I do so charge you, and I have complete evidence of the truth of my +charge. What have you to say?” + +“What have I to say?” repeated Hector, looking around him proudly and +scornfully. “I have to say that it is an infamous lie!” + +“Hold, sir!” exclaimed Socrates, angrily. “Shameless boy, do you intend +to brazen it out? Did I not tell you that I had complete proof of the +truth of the charge?” + +“I don’t care what fancied proof you have. I denounce the charge as a +lie.” + +“That won’t do, sir! I myself took the wallet from the pocket of your +pantaloons, hanging in the chamber. Mrs. Smith was with me and witnessed +my discovery, and there was another present, one of the pupils of this +institute, who also can testify to the fact. It is useless for you to +deny it!” + +“You found the wallet in the pocket of my pantaloons?” asked Hector, +slowly. + +“Yes. There can be no doubt about that.” + +“Who put it there?” demanded Hector, quickly. + +Socrates Smith was staggered, for he had not expected this query from +the accused. + +“Who put it there?” he repeated. + +“Yes, sir,” continued Hector, firmly. “If the matter is as you state it, +some one has been mean enough to put the wallet into my pocket in order +to implicate me in a theft.” + +“Of course you put it there yourself, Roscoe. Your defense is very +lame.” + +Hector turned round to his fellow-scholars. + +“Boys,” he said, “you have heard the charge that has been made against +me. You know me pretty well by this time. Is there any one of you that +believes it to be true?” + +“No! No!” shouted the boys, with one exception. Jim Smith was heard to +say distinctly, “I believe it!” + +“Silence in the school!” shouted Socrates. “This is altogether +irregular, and I won’t have it.” + +Hector turned to the principal, and said, calmly: + +“You see, Mr. Smith, that, in spite of your proof, these boys will not +believe that your charge is well founded.” + +“That is neither here nor there, Roscoe. Will anyone step up and prove +your innocence?” + +There was another sensation. In the second row back a boy was seen to +rise. + +“Mr. Smith,” said Ben Platt, “I can prove Roscoe’s innocence!” + + + + +CHAPTER XX. HECTOR GAINS A VICTORY. + + + +There were two persons on whom Ben Platt’s declaration made a profound +impression. These were Jim Smith and his uncle, the learned Socrates. +The latter was surprised, for he was fully persuaded that the charge +he had made was a true one, and Hector was a thief. As for Jim, his +surprise was of a very disagreeable nature. Knowing as he did that, he +himself had taken the money, he was alarmed lest his offense was to +be made known, and that the pit which he had digged for another should +prove to be provided for himself. + +Socrates was the first to speak after taking time to recover himself +from his surprise. + +“This is a very extraordinary statement, Platt,” he said. “You say you +can prove Roscoe’s innocence?” + +“Yes, sir,” answered Platt, firmly. + +“I wish no trifling here, sir,” said the principal, sharply. “I myself +found the wallet in Roscoe’s pocket.” + +“Yes, sir,” answered Ben Platt, “I know it was there.” + +“You knew it was there!” repeated Socrates. “How did you know it was +there?” + +“Because I saw it put in.” + +Here Jim Smith’s face turned from red to pale, and he moved about +uneasily in his seat. “Could Ben Platt have been hidden somewhere in the +room?” he asked himself, “If so, what was he to do?” There was but one +answer to this question. He must brazen it out, and boldly contradict +the witness. But he would bide his time. He would wait to hear what Ben +had to say. + +“Did you put it in yourself?” asked Socrates, savagely. + +“No, Mr. Smith, I didn’t put it in,” answered Ben, indignantly. + +“None of your impudence, sir!” said the schoolmaster, irritated. + +“I merely answered your question and defended myself,” answered Ben. + +There was a little murmur among the pupils, showing that their sympathy +was with the boy who had been so causelessly accused by the principal. + +“Silence!” exclaimed Socrates, annoyed. “Now,” he continued, turning +to Ben, “since you know who put the wallet into Roscoe’s pocket--a very +remarkable statement, by the way--will you deign to inform me who did +it?” + +“James Smith did it!” said Ben, looking over to the principal’s nephew, +who was half expecting such an attack. + +“It’s a base lie!” cried Jim, but his face was blanched, his manner was +nervous and confused, and he looked guilty, if he were not so. + +“My nephew?” asked Socrates, flurried. + +“Yes, sir.” + +“It isn’t so, Uncle Socrates,” said Jim, excited. “I’ll lick you, Ben +Platt, when we get out of school.” + +“You forget yourself, James,” said Socrates, with a mildness he would +not have employed with any other pupil. + +“I beg your pardon, Uncle Socrates,” said Jim, with contrition, “but I +can’t be silent when I am accused of things I don’t do.” + +“To be sure, you have some excuse, but you should remember the respect +you owe to me. Then you did not do it?” + +“Certainly not, sir.” + +“So it appears, Platt, that you have brought a false charge against +your fellow-pupil,” said Mr. Smith, severely. “I can conceive of nothing +meaner.” + +“Mr. Smith,” said Hector, “what right have you to say that the charge is +false? Is it the denial of your nephew? If he took the wallet he would, +of course, deny it.” + +“So would you!” retorted Socrates. + +“No one saw me conceal it,” said Hector, significantly. + +Then Wilkins rose. + +“Mr. Smith,” he said, “I have some evidence to offer.” + +“Out with it, sir,” said the principal, angrily, for he was fighting +against an inward conviction that his nephew was really the guilty +party. + +“I was walking along the corridor about the time Platt speaks of Smith’s +visit to Roscoe’s room, and I met your nephew walking in the opposite +direction. When I entered the room, Platt told me that, half-concealed +by the closet door, he had seen Jim Smith enter and thrust the wallet +into Roscoe’s pocket. Soon after, you and Mrs. Smith came into the +room, guided by your nephew, who let you know just where the wallet was +hidden. He had very good reasons for knowing,” added Wilkins. + +If a look would have annihilated Wilkins, the look directed towards him +by Jim Smith would have had that effect. + +“It’s a conspiracy against me, Uncle Socrates,” said Jim, intent upon +brazening it out. “They’re all in league together.” + +“The testimony of Wilkins doesn’t amount to much!” said Mr. Smith. “He +may have seen James in the corridor, but that is by no means a part of +his complicity in this affair.” + +“Just so!” said Jim, eagerly. + +“Ben Platt’s evidence ought to count for something,” said Hector. “He +saw your nephew putting the wallet into the pocket of my pants.” + +Socrates was clearly perplexed. In spite of his partiality for his +nephew, the case against him certainly looked very strong. + +Hector, however, determined to make his defense even stronger. + +“I would like to ask Platt,” he said, “at what time this took place?” + +“At three o’clock.” + +“How do you know it was three?” asked the principal, sharply. + +“Because I heard the clock on the village church strike three.” + +“I would like to ask another boy--Frank Lewis--if he heard the clock +strike three?” + +Lewis answered in the affirmative. + +“Where were you at the time?” + +“In the playground.” + +“What were you doing?” + +“Playing ball.” + +“Was I in the game?” + +“Yes.” + +“How long had the game been going on?” + +“Half an hour.” + +“How long had the game been going on, do you know?” + +“From half to three-quarters of an hour.” + +“Can you remember whether I was with you all the time?” + +“You were.” + +“Now, Platt, will you tell me how long after the wallet was put into my +pocket before Mr. Smith appeared in search of it?” + +“Not over half an hour.” + +“I submit, then,” said Hector, in a matter-of-fact manner, “that I was +absent in the playground during the entire time when it was found in +my room. I believe this is what lawyers call an alibi that I have, +fortunately, been able to prove.” + +“You are a very smart lawyer!” sneered the principal. + +The boys were by this time so incensed at Mr. Smith’s evident effort to +clear his nephew at the expense of Roscoe, that there was a very audible +hiss, in which at least half a dozen joined. + +“Is this rebellion?” asked Socrates, furiously. + +“No, sir,” said Ben Platt, firmly. “We want justice done; that is all.” + +“You shall have justice--all of you!” exclaimed Socrates, carried beyond +the limits of prudence. + +“I am glad to hear that, sir,” said Hector. “If you do not at once +exonerate me from this charge, which you know to be false, and write to +my guardian retracting it, I will bring the matter before the nearest +magistrate.” + +This was more than Socrates had bargained for. He saw that he had gone +too far, and was likely to wreck his prospects and those of the school. + +“I will look into the matter,” he said, hurriedly, “and report to the +school hereafter. You may now apply yourselves to your studies.” + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. THE USHER IS DISCHARGED. + + + +Among the boys of Smith Institute there was but one opinion on the +subject of the principal’s wallet. All acquitted Roscoe of having any +part in the theft, and they were equally unanimous in the belief that +Jim Smith had contrived a mean plot against the boy whom he could not +conquer by fair means. There was a little informal consultation as +to how Jim should be treated. It was finally decided to “send him to +Coventry.” + +As this phrase, which is well understood in English schools, may not be +so clear to my readers, I will explain that Jim was to be refused notice +by his schoolfellows, unless he should become aggressive, when he was to +be noticed in a manner far from agreeable. + +Jim could not help observing the cold looks of the boys, who but lately +were glad enough to receive notice from him, and he became very angry. +As to being ashamed of the exposure, he was not sensitive, nor did +he often have any feeling of that kind. Naturally vindictive, he +felt especially angry with the two boys, Ben Platt and Wilkins, whose +testimony had proved so uncomfortable for him. + +“I’ll thrash those boys if I never thrash another,” he said to himself. +“So they have turned against me, have they? They’re only fit to black my +boots anyway. I’ll give ‘em a lesson.” + +Platt and Wilkins were expecting an attack. They knew that Jim would +seize the opportunity of attacking them singly, and in the absence of +Hector, of whom he was afraid, and with good reason. They concerted +measures, accordingly, for defeating the common enemy. + +Jim was stalking about the next day, looking sullen and feeling ugly. +He could not help observing that whenever he approached a group of boys +they immediately scattered and walked away in various directions. This +naturally chafed him, for, having no intellectual resources, he found +solitude oppressive. Besides, he had been accustomed to the role of +boss, and where is a boss without followers? + +Tired of the schoolroom precincts, Jim went to walk. In a rustic lane, +much to his delight, he saw approaching him one of the boys who had so +seriously offended him. + +It was Ben Platt. + +Ben was sauntering along in idle mood when he came face to face with the +dethroned boss. + +“So it’s you, Platt, is it?” said Jim, grimly. + +“I believe it is,” answered Ben, coolly. + +“I’ve got a word or two to say to you,” said Jim, significantly. + +“Say them quick,” said Ben, “for I’m in a hurry.” + +“I’m not,” said Jim, in his old tone, “and it makes no difference +whether you are or not.” + +“Indeed! you are as polite as usual,” returned Ben. + +“Look here, you young whelp!” Jim broke forth, unable any longer to +restrain his wrath, “what, did you mean by lying about me last evening?” + +“I didn’t lie about you,” said Ben, boldly. + +“Yes, you did. What made you say you saw me put that wallet into +Roscoe’s pocket?” + +“I can’t think of any reason, unless because it was true,” said Ben. + +“Even if it were, how dared you turn against me? First you play the spy, +and then informer. Paugh!” + +“I see you admit it,” said Ben. “Well, if you want an answer I will give +you one. You laid a plot for Hector Roscoe--one of the meanest, dirtiest +plots I ever heard of, and I wasn’t going to see you lie him into a +scrape while I could prevent it.” + +“That’s enough, Platt!” exclaimed Jim, furiously. “Now, do you know what +I am going to do?” + +“I don’t feel particularly interested in the matter.” + +“You will be, then. I am going to thrash you.” + +“You wouldn’t if Hector Roscoe were here,” said Ben, not appearing to be +much frightened. + +“Well, he isn’t here, though if he were it wouldn’t make any difference. +I’ll whip you so you can’t stand.” + +Ben’s reply was to call “Wilkins!” + +From a clump of bushes, where he had lurked, unobserved hitherto, sprang +Wilkins, and joined his friend. + +“There are two of us, Smith!” said Ben Platt. + +“I can thrash you both,” answered Jim, whose blood was up. + +Before the advent of Hector no two boys would have ventured to engage +Jim in combat, but his defeat by a boy considerably smaller had lost him +his prestige, and the boys had become more independent. He still fancied +himself a match for both, however, and the conflict began. But both of +his antagonists were in earnest, and Jim had a hard time. + +Now, it so happened that Mr. Crabb, the usher, was taking a solitary +walk, and had approached the scene of conflict unobserved by any of the +participants. He arrived at an opportune time. Jim had managed to draw +Wilkins away, and by a quick movement threw him. He was about to deal +his prostrate foe a savage kick, which might have hurt him seriously, +when the usher, quiet and peaceful as he was by nature, could restrain +himself no longer. He rushed up, seized him by the collar, dragged him +back and shook him with a strength he did not suppose he possessed, +saying: + +“Leave that boy alone, you brute!” + +Jim turned quickly, and was very much surprised when he saw the meek +usher, whom he had always despised, because he looked upon him as a Miss +Nancy. + +“So it’s you, is it?” he said, with a wicked glance. + +“Yes, it is I,” answered the usher, manfully; “come up just in time to +stop your brutality.” + +“Is it any of your business?” demanded Jim, looking as if he would like +to thrash the usher. + +“I have made it my business. Platt and Wilkins, I advise you to join +me, and leave this fellow, who has so disgraced himself as to be beneath +your notice.” + +“We will accompany you with pleasure, sir,” said the boys. + +They regarded the usher with new respect for this display of courage, +for which they had not given him credit. + +“I’ll fix you, Crabb,” said Jim Smith, insolently, “and don’t you forget +it!” + +Mr. Crabb did not deign to answer him. + +Jim Smith was as good as his word. + +An hour later Mr. Crabb was summoned to the presence of the principal. + +Socrates received him with marked coldness. + +“Mr. Crabb,” he said, “I cannot conceal the amazement I feel at a +complaint which has just been made by my nephew.” + +“Well, sir?” + +Mr. Crabb had nerved himself for the worst, and did not cower or show +signs of fear, as Socrates expected he would. + +“James tells me that you attacked him savagely this afternoon when he +was having a little sport with two of his schoolfellows.” + +“Is that what he says, Mr. Smith?” + +“Yes, sir, and I require an explanation.” + +“You shall have it. The sport in which your nephew was engaged was +attempting to thrash Wilkins. He had him down, and was about to deal him +a savage kick when I fortunately came up.” + +“And joined in the fight,” sneered Socrates. + +“Yes, if you choose to put it so. Would you have had me stand by, and +see Wilkins brutally used?” + +“Of course, you color the affair to suit yourself,” said Socrates, +coldly. “The fact is that you, an usher, have lowered yourself by taking +part in a playful schoolboy contest.” + +“Playful!” repeated Mr. Crabb. + +“Yes, and I shall show how I regard it by giving you notice that I no +longer require your services in my school. I shall pay you up at the end +of the week and then discharge you.” + +“Mr. Smith,” said the usher, “permit me to say that anything more +disgraceful than your own conduct within the last twenty-four hours I +have never witnessed. You have joined your nephew in a plot to disgrace +an innocent boy, declining to do justice, and now you have capped the +climax by censuring me for stopping an act of brutality, merely because +your nephew was implicated in it!” + +“This to me?” exclaimed Socrates Smith, hardly crediting the testimony +of his ears. + +“Yes, sir, and more! I predict that the stupid folly which has +characterized your course will, within six months, drive from you every +scholar you have in your school!” + +“Mr. Crabb,” gasped Socrates, never more surprised in his life than +he was at the sudden spirit exhibited by the usher, “I will not be so +insulted. Leave me, and to-morrow morning leave my service.” + +“I will, sir. I have no desire to remain here longer.” + +But when Mr. Crabb had walked away his spirit sank within him. How was +he to obtain another situation? He must consult immediately with Hector +Roscoe, in whose judgment, boy as he was, he reposed great confidence. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII. THE WELCOME LETTER. + + + +“Hector,” said Mr. Crabb, nervously, “I am going to leave the institute +at the end of the week.” + +“Have you secured another situation, Mr. Crabb?” asked Hector, +hopefully. + +“No,” answered the usher, shaking his head. “I have been discharged.” + +“For what reason?” + +“For interfering with Mr. Smith’s nephew when he was brutally abusing +Wilkins.” + +“Did Mr. Smith fully understand the circumstances?” + +“Yes; but he stands by his nephew right or wrong. He blamed me for +checking his nephew’s brutality.” + +“This is shameful!” said Hector, warmly. “May I ask, Mr. Crabb, if you +have formed any plans?” + +“No, except to seek a new position!” answered Crabb. “I fear,” he +added, despondently, “that it may be some time before I am so fortunate. +Roscoe, I don’t know what to do when I leave the school. I shall barely +have five dollars, and you know I have not only myself, but another to +support.” + +“Keep up your courage, Mr. Crabb! It is nearly time for me to hear from +the friend in New York to whom I wrote is your behalf. If you can secure +the position of his private tutor--” + +“If I can, I will hail it as providential. It will relieve me at once +from all anxiety.” + +“I don’t think I shall long remain here myself, Mr. Crabb,” said +Hector. “I came here with the full intention of making the most of the +facilities the institute affords for education, but I find the principal +incompetent, and disposed to connive at injustice and brutality. The +only good I have got here has been derived from your instructions.” + +“Thank you, Roscoe. Such a tribute is, indeed, welcome,” said the usher, +warmly. + +“It is quite sincere, Mr. Crabb, and I hope my good wishes may bring you +the advantage which I have in view.” + +“Thank you, Roscoe. I don’t blame you for being disgusted with the +management of the school. You have yourself suffered injustice.” + +“Yes; in writing home, and charging me with theft, before he had +investigated the circumstances, Mr. Smith did me a great injustice. I +doubt whether he has since written to correct the false charge, as +I required him to do. If not, I shall owe it to myself to leave the +school.” + +“You will be justified in doing so.” The next day brought Hector two +letters. One was from Allan Roscoe, and read as follows: + +“HECTOR: I have received from your worthy teacher a letter which has +filled me with grief and displeasure. I knew you had great faults, but +I did not dream that you would stoop so low as to purloin money, as it +seems you have done. Mr. Smith writes me that there is no room to doubt +your guilt. He himself discovered in the pocket of your pantaloons a +wallet containing a large sum of money, which he had missed only a short +time before. He learned that you had entered his chamber, and taken the +money, being tempted by your own dishonest and depraved heart. + +“I cannot express the shame I feel at this revelation of baseness. I +am truly glad that you are not connected with me by blood. Yet I cannot +forget that my poor brother treated you as a son; and took pains to +train you up in right ideas. It would give him deep pain could he know +how the boy whom he so heaped with benefits has turned out! I may say +that Guy is as much shocked as I am, but he, it seems, had a better +knowledge of you than I; for he tells me he is not surprised to hear it. +I confess I am, for I thought better of you. + +“Under the circumstances I shall not feel justified in doing for you as +much as I intended. I proposed to keep you at school for two years more, +but I have now to announce that this is your last term, and I advise you +to make the most of it. I will try, when the term closes, to find some +situation for you, where your employer’s money will not pass through +your hands. ALLAN ROSCOE.” + +Hector read the letter with conflicting feelings, the most prominent +being indignation and contempt for the man who so easily allowed himself +to think evil of him. + +The other letter he found more satisfactory. + +It was from his young friend in New York, Walter Boss. As it is short, I +subjoin it: + +“DEAR HECTOR: I am ever so glad to hear from you, but I should like much +better to see you. I read to papa what you said of Mr. Crabb, and he +says it is very apropos, as he had made up his mind to get me a tutor. +I am rather backward, you see, not having your taste for study, and papa +thinks I need special attention. He says that your recommendation is +sufficient, and he will engage Mr. Crabb without any further inquiry; +and he says he can come at once. He will give him sixty dollars a month +and board, and he will have considerable time for himself, if he wants +to study law or any other profession. I don’t know but a cousin may join +me in my studies, in which case he will pay a hundred dollars per month, +if that will be sastisfactory. + +“Why can’t you come and make me a visit? We’ll have jolly fun. Come +and stay a month, old chap. There is no one I should like better. Your +friend, WALTER Boss.” + +Hector read this letter with genuine delight. It offered a way of +escape, both for the unfortunate usher and himself. Nothing could be +more “apropos” to quote Walter’s expression. + +Our hero lost no time in seeking out Mr. Crabb. + +“You seem in good spirits, Roscoe,” said the usher, his careworn face +contrasting with the beaming countenance of his pupil. + +“Yes, Mr. Crabb, I have reason to be, and so have you.” + +“Have you heard from your friend?” asked the usher, hopefully. + +“Yes, and it’s all right.” + +Mr. Crabb looked ten years younger. + +“Is it really true?” he asked. + +“It is true that you are engaged as private tutor to my friend, Walter. +You’ll find him a splendid fellow, but I don’t know if the pay is +sufficient,” continued Hector, gravely. + +“I am willing to take less pay than I get here,” said the usher, “for +the sake of getting away.” + +“How much do you receive here?” + +“Twenty dollar a month and board. I might, perhaps, get along on a +little less,” he added doubtfully. + +“You won’t have to, Mr. Crabb. You are offered sixty dollars a month and +a home.” + +“You are not in earnest, Roscoe?” asked the usher, who could not believe +in his good fortune. + +“I will read you the letter, Mr. Crabb.” + +When it was read the usher looked radiant. “Roscoe,” he said, “you come +to me like an angel from heaven. Just now I was sad and depressed; now +it seems to me that the whole future is radiant. Sixty dollars a month! +Why, it will make me a rich man.” + +“Mr. Crabb,” said Hector, with a lurking spirit of fun, “can you really +make up your mind to leave Smith Institute, and its kind and benevolent +principal?” + +“I don’t think any prisoner ever welcomed his release with deeper +thankfulness,” said the usher. “To be in the employ of a man whom you +despise, yet to feel yourself a helpless and hopeless dependent on him +is, I assure you, Roscoe, a position by no means to be envied. For two +years that has been my lot.” + +“But it will soon be over.” + +“Yes, thanks to you. Why can’t you accompany me, Hector? I ought not, +perhaps, to draw you away, but--” + +“But listen to the letter I have received from my kind and considerate +guardian, as he styles himself,” said Hector. + +He read Allan Roscoe’s letter to the usher. + +“He seems in a great hurry to condemn you,” said Mr. Crabb. + +“Yes, and to get me off his hands,” said Hector, proudly. “Well, he +shall be gratified in the last. I shall accept Walter’s invitation, and +we will go up to New York together.” + +“That will, indeed, please me. Of course, you will undeceive your +guardian.” + +“Yes. I will get Wilkins and Platt to prepare a statement of the facts +in the case, and accompany it by a note releasing Mr. Roscoe from any +further care or expense for me.” + +“But, Hector, can you afford to do this?” + +“I cannot afford to do otherwise, Mr. Crabb. I shall find friends, and I +am willing to work for my living, if need be.” + +At this point one of the boys came to Mr. Crabb with a message from +Socrates, desiring the usher to wait upon him at once. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. ANOTHER CHANCE FOR THE USHER. + + + +Mr. Smith had been thinking it over. He had discharged Mr. Crabb in the +anger of the moment, but after his anger had abated, he considered that +it was not for his interest to part with him. Mr. Crabb was a competent +teacher, and it would be well-nigh impossible to obtain another so +cheap. Twenty dollars a month for a teacher qualified to instruct in +Latin and Greek was certainly a beggarly sum, but Mr. Crabb’s dire +necessity had compelled him to accept it. Where could he look for +another teacher as cheap? Socrates Smith appreciated the difficulty, +and decided to take Mr. Crabb back, on condition that he would make an +apology to Jim. + +To do Mr. Crabb justice, it may be said that he would not have done this +even if he saw no chance of another situation. But this Mr. Smith did +not know. He did observe, however, that the usher entered his presence +calm, erect and appearing by no means depressed, as he had expected. + +“You sent for me, sir?” said the usher interrogatively. + +“Yes, Mr. Crabb. You will remember that I had occasion to rebuke you, +when we last conferred together, for overstepping the limits of your +authority?” + +“I remember, Mr. Smith, that you showed anger, and found fault with me.” + +“Exactly so.” + +“Why doesn’t he ask to be taken back?” thought Socrates. + +“I have thought the matter over since,” continued the principal, “and +have concluded we might be able to arrange matters.” + +The usher was surprised. He had not expected that Mr. Smith would make +overtures of reconciliation. He decided not to mention at present his +brighter prospects in New York, but to wait and see what further his +employer had to say. + +Mr. Crabb bowed, but did not make any reply. + +“I take it for granted, Mr. Crabb, that your means are limited,” + proceeded Socrates. + +“You are right there, sir. If I had not been poor I should not have +accepted the position of teacher in Smith Institute for the pitiful +salary of twenty dollars a month.” + +“Twenty dollars a month and your board, Mr. Crabb,” said Socrates, with +dignity, “I consider a very fair remuneration.” + +“I do not, Mr. Smith,” said the usher, in a decided tone. + +“I apprehend you will find it considerably better than to be out of +employment,” said Socrates, rather angry. + +“You are right there, sir.” + +“I am glad you show signs of returning reason. Well, Mr. Crabb, I have +thought the matter over, and I have a proposal to make to you.” + +“Very well, sir!” + +“I do not wish to distress you by taking away your means of livelihood.” + +“You are very considerate, sir.” + +There was something in Mr. Crabb’s tone that Socrates did not +understand. It really seemed that he did not care whether he was taken +back or not. But, of course, this could not be. It was absolutely +necessary for him, poor as he was, that he should be reinstated. So Mr. +Smith proceeded. + +“To cut the matter short, I am willing to take you back on two +conditions.” + +“May I ask you to name them?” + +“The first is, that you shall apologize to my nephew for your +unjustifiable attack upon him day before yesterday.” + +“What is the other, Mr. Smith?” + +“The other is, that hereafter you will not exceed the limits of your +authority.” + +“And you wish my answer?” asked the usher, raising his eyes, and looking +fixedly at his employer. + +“If you please, Mr. Crabb.” + +“Then, sir, you shall have it. Your proposal that I should apologize to +that overgrown bully for restraining him in his savage treatment of a +fellow-pupil is both ridiculous and insulting.” + +“You forget yourself, Mr. Crabb,” said Socrates, gazing at the hitherto +humble usher in stupefaction. + +“As to promising not to do it again, you will understand that I shall +make no such engagement.” + +“Then, Mr. Crabb,” said Socrates, angrily, “I shall adhere to what I +said the other day. At the end of this week you must leave me.” + +“Of course, sir, that is understood!” + +“You haven’t another engagement, I take it,” said Mr. Smith, very much +puzzled by the usher’s extraordinary independence. + +“Yes, sir, I have.” + +“Indeed!” said Socrates, amazed. “Where do you go?” Then was Mr. Crabb’s +time for triumph. + +“I have received this morning an offer from the city of New York,” he +said. + +“From New York! Is it in a school?” + +“No, sir; I am to be private tutor in a family.” + +“Indeed! Do you receive as good pay as here?” + +“As good!” echoed the usher. “I am offered sixty dollars a month and +board, with the possibility of a larger sum, in the event of extra +service being demanded.” + +Socrates Smith had never been more surprised. + +This Mr. Crabb, whom he had considered to be under his thumb, as being +wholly dependent upon him, was to receive a salary which he considered +princely. + +“How did you get this office?” he asked. + +“Through my friend, Hector Roscoe,” answered the usher. + +“Probably he is deceiving you. It is ridiculous to offer you such a +sum.” + +“I am quite aware that you would never think of offering it, but, Mr. +Smith, there are other employers more generous.” + +Mr. Crabb left the office with the satisfied feeling that he had the +best of the encounter.. He would have felt gratified could he have known +the increased respect with which he was regarded by the principal as a +teacher who could command so lucrative an engagement in the great city +of New York. + +Before closing this chapter I must take notice of one circumstance which +troubled Mr. Smith, and in the end worked him additional loss. + +I have already said that Jim Smith, in appropriating his uncle’s wallet, +abstracted therefrom a five-dollar bill before concealing it in Hector’s +pocket. + +This loss Mr. Smith speedily discovered, and he questioned Jim about it. + +“I suppose Roscoe took it,” said Jim, glibly. + +“But he says he did not take the wallet,” said Socrates, who was assured +in his own mind that his nephew was the one who found it on the bureau. +Without stigmatizing him as a thief, he concluded that Jim meant to get +Hector into trouble. + +“Wasn’t it found in his pants’ pocket?” queried Jim. + +“Yes, but why should he take five dollars out of the wallet?” + +“I don’t know.” + +“It doesn’t look likely that he would!” said Socrates, eying Jim keenly. + +“Then it may have been Ben Platt or Wilkins,” said Jim, with a bright +idea. + +“So it might,” said the principal, with a feeling of relief. + +“They said they were in the room--at any rate, Platt said so--at the +time it was concealed, only he made a mistake and took Roscoe for me.” + +“There is something in that, James. It may be as you suggest.” + +“They are both sneaks,” said Jim, who designated all his enemies by that +name. “They’d just as lieve do it as not. I never liked them.” + +“I must look into this matter. It’s clear that some one has got this +money, and whoever has it has got possession of it dishonestly.” + +“To be sure,” answered Jim, with unblushing assurance. “If I were you I +would find out who did it, that is, if you don’t think Roscoe did it.” + +“No, I don’t think Roscoe did it, now. You may tell Platt and Wilkins +that I wish to see them.” + +Jim could not have been assigned a more pleasing duty. He hated the two +boys quite as much as he did Hector, and he was glad to feel that they +were likely to get into hot water. + +He looked about for some time before he found the two boys. At length he +espied them returning from a walk. + +“Here, you two!” he called out, in a voice ef authority. “You’re +wanted!” + +“Who wants us?” asked Ben Platt. + +“My uncle wants you,” answered Jim, with malicious satisfaction. “You’d +better go and see him right off, too. You won’t find it a trifling +matter, either.” + +“Probably Jim has been hatchng some mischief,” said Wilkins. “He owes us +a grudge. We’ll go and see what it is.” + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. THE YOUNG DETECTIVES. + + + +When Mr. Smith had made the two boys’ understand that he suspected them +of purloining the missing five-dollar bill, they were naturally very +indignant. + +“Mr. Smith,” said Ben Platt, in a spirited tone, “no one ever suspected +me of dishonesty before.” + +“Nor me,” said Wilkins. + +“That’s neither here nor there,” said the principal, dogmatically. “It +stands to reason that some one took the money. Money doesn’t generally +walk off itself,” he added, with a sneer. + +“I don’t dispute that,” said Ben; “but that does not prove that Wilkins +or I had anything to do with it.” + +“You were in the room with the money for half an hour, according to your +own confession,” said Socrates. + +“Yes, I was.” + +“And part of that time Wilkins was also present.” + +“Yes, sir,” assented Wilkins. + +“I am no lawyer,” said the principal, triumphantly, “but that seems to +me a pretty good case of circumstantial evidence.” + +“You seem to forget, sir, that there is another person who had an +excellent chance to take the money,” said Ben Platt. + +“You mean Hector Roscoe? That is true. It lies between you three.” + +“No, Mr. Smith, I do not mean Hector Roscoe. I have as much confidence +in Roscoe as myself.” + +“So have I,” sneered Socrates. + +“And I know he would not take any money that did not belong to him. I +mean a very different person--your nephew, James Smith.” + +Socrates Smith frowned with anger. “There seems to be a conspiracy +against my unfortunate nephew,” he said. “I don’t believe a word of your +mean insinuations, and I am not deceived by your attempt to throw your +own criminality upon him. It will not injure him in my eyes. Moreover, I +shall be able to trace back the theft to the wrongdoer. The missing bill +was marked with a cross upon the back, and should either of you attempt +to pass it, your guilt will be made manifest. I advise you to restore it +to me while there is yet time.” + +“The bill was marked?” asked Wilkins, eagerly. + +“Yes.” + +“Then, sir, you may have a chance to find out who took it.” + +“The discovery might not please you,” said Socrates, with a sneer. + +“It would give me the greatest pleasure, Mr. Smith. If I can in any way +help you discover the missing note, I will do so.” + +“You can go,” said Socrates, abruptly. + +When the two boys had left the presence of the principal, Ben Platt, +said, “What are you going to do about it, Wilkins?” + +“First of all,” answered Wilkins, promptly, “I am going to find out if +Jim took that money.” + +“How can you find out?” + +“Did you notice that he had come out with a new ring?” + +“No, I didn’t observe it.” + +“He has bought it since that money was lost!” said Wilkins, +significantly. + +“Do you think he purchased it with the missing bill?” + +“I wouldn’t wonder at all. At any rate, I am going to find out. He must +have bought it from Washburn, the jeweler. Will you go with me, and +ask?” + +“Yes,” answered Ben, eagerly. “Let us go alone. If we can only prove the +theft upon Jim, so that old Sock can’t help believing that he stole the +money, we shall be cleared; though, as to that, there isn’t a scholar in +school who would believe the charge against us.” + +“Still, we may as well do what we can to bring the guilt home to Jim +Smith.” + +Ten minutes later the two boys entered the shop of Mr. Washburn. + +“Will you show me some rings, Mr. Washburn?” asked Wilkins. + +“Certainly,” answered the jeweler, politely. + +“What is the price of that?” asked Wilkins, pointing to one exactly like +the one he had seen on Jim’s finger. + +“Three dollars and a half. It is a very pretty pattern.” + +“Yes, sir. There’s one of our boys who has one just like it.” + +“You mean James Smith, the principal’s nephew.” + +“Yes, sir.” + +“He bought it of me yesterday.” + +The two boys exchanged a quick glance. + +They felt that they were on the brink of a discovery. + +“Did he give you a five-dollar bill in payment?” asked Ben Platt. + +“Yes,” answered the jeweler, in surprise. + +“Could you identify that bill?” + +“What are you driving at, boys?” asked Mr. Washburn, keenly. + +“I will explain to you if you will answer my questions first.” + +“Yes, I could identify the bill.” + +“Have you it in your possession still?” + +“I have.” + +“How will you know it?” + +“It seems to me, my boy, you are in training for a lawyer.” + +“I have a very urgent reason for asking you this question, Mr. +Washburn.” + +“Then I will answer you. When the note was given me, I noticed that it +was on the Park Bank of New York.” + +“Will you be kind enough to see if you can find it?”’ + +“Certainly.” + +The jeweler opened his money drawer, and after a brief search, produced +the bill in question. + +It was a five-dollar bill on the Park Bank of New York, as he had +already told the boys. + +“Now, Mr. Washburn,” asked Wilkins, trying to repress his excitement, +“will you examine the back of the bill, and see if there is any mark on +it.” + +The jeweler did as requested, and announced, after slight examination, +that there was a cross on the back of the bill in the upper right hand +corner. + +“Hurrah!” shouted Ben, impulsively. + +To the wondering jeweler he explained his precise object in the inquiry +he had made, and the boys were complimented by Mr. Washburn for their +shrewdness. + +“If I ever meet with a loss, I shall certainly call on you for +assistance, boys,” he said. + +“Thank you, Mr. Washburn,” answered Wilkins, “but I do not expect to be +here to be called upon.” + +“You are not going to leave the institute, are you?” + +“I shall write to my father in what manner I have been treated, and let +him understand how the principal manages the school, and I feel sure he +will withdraw me.” + +“Ditto for me!” said Ben Platt. “Old Sock’s partiality for his nephew +has been carried too far, and now that the only decent teacher is +going--Mr. Crabb--I don’t mean, to stay here if I can help it.” + +The boys, upon their return to the school, sought out the principal. + +“Well, boys,” he said, “have you come to confess?” + +“No, sir,” answered Ben, “but we have come to give you some information +about your money.” + +“I was sure you knew something about it,” said Socrates, with a sneer. +“I am glad you have decided to make a clean breast of it.” + +“You are mistaken, sir.” + +“Well, out with your information!” said the principal, roughly. + +“A five-dollar bill, marked as you have described, was paid to Mr. +Washburn, the jeweler, only yesterday.” + +“Ha! Well?” + +“The one who offered it purchased a gold ring.” + +“I don’t care what he bought. Who was it that offered the money?” + +“Your nephew, James Smith!” + +“I don’t believe it,” said the teacher, very much disconcerted. + +“Then, sir, I advise you to question Mr. Washburn.” + +“How can he identify the bill? Is it the only five-dollar bill he has?” + +“The only five-dollar bill on the Park Bank of New York, and he says he +noticed that this was the bank that issued the bill handed him by your +nephew.” + +“What of that?” + +“The note, which he still has in his possession, is marked just exactly +as you have described.” + +“It may have been marked since it came into Mr. Washburn’s hands,” said +Socrates, but he was evidently very much disturbed by the intelligence. +He might not confess it, but he could not help believing that Jim was +the thief, after all. + +“You can go,” he said, harshly. “I will look into this improbable +story.” + + + + +CHAPTER XXV. SMITH INSTITUTE GROWS UNPOPULAR. + + + +Hector lost no time in drawing up a statement of the facts connected +with the loss of the wallet, which he got Wilkins and Ben Platt to sign. +This he put into an envelope directed to Allan Roscoe, accompanied by a +brief note, which I subjoin: + +“MR. ROSCOE: I send you a statement, signed by two of my schoolmates, +showing that the charge which Mr. Smith was in such a hurry to bring +against me, in order to screen his nephew, who is the real thief, is +wholly unfounded. I am not particularly surprised that you were ready +to believe it, nor do I care enough for your good opinion to worry. I +consider that it is due to myself, however, to prove to you that I have +done nothing of which I need be ashamed. Finding the scholars here in +terror of a bully, who imposed upon his schoolfellows with impunity +because, being the principal’s nephew, he was protected in so doing, I +taught him a lesson which may not do him good, but has certainly been of +benefit to his fellow-pupils. In so doing, I have incurred his enmity, +and that of his uncle, who, for more than one reason, is utterly unfit +to conduct a school of this kind. + +“You threaten to remove me from school at the end of this term. I do not +wish to remain, and shall remove myself at the end of this week. I shall +not look to you for support, nor do I expect again to depend upon the +estate to which I once thought myself the heir, unless I should be +able to prove that I am the son of your brother, as I fully believe, +notwithstanding the letter you exhibit.” + +“HECTOR ROSCOE.” + +When Mr. Allan Roscoe received this letter he was very much disturbed. +As he had no affection for Hector, and did not care what became of him, +this may, perhaps, excite surprise. Could it be the last sentence which +excited his alarm? + +“Is that letter from Hector?” asked Guy, who had noticed the postmark as +it lay upon his father’s table. + +“Yes,” answered Allan Roscoe. + +“Does he try to explain his theft?” asked Guy. + +“He says he had nothing to do with it.” + +“Oh, of course!” sneered Guy. “You don’t believe it, do you?” + +“He sends a statement of two of the pupils to the effect that the wallet +was taken by another pupil, a nephew of the principal.” + +“That’s too thin!” + +“I don’t know. It may be true. I don’t like the boy, but I hardly think +it probable he would steal.” + +“You think better of him than I do. I suppose he wants to get into your +good graces again?” + +“No; he says he shall leave school at the end of this week, and will not +again look to me for support.” + +“That’s jolly!” exclaimed Guy, much pleased. “You’re well rid of him, +papa. Let him go away and make a living as he can. He’ll have to +turn newsboy, or something of that sort--perhaps he’ll have to be a +bootblack. Wouldn’t that be a good come down for a boy like Hector?” + +Guy spoke with great glee, but his father did not seem to enjoy his +release as well as Guy. He showed that he understood the boy better when +he said: + +“Hector will not have to resort to any such employment. He has a good +education, and he can get some decent position, probably. On the whole, +I am sorry he is going to leave my protection, for friends of the family +may, perhaps, blame me.” + +“But it isn’t your fault, papa. He is taking his own course.” + +“To be sure. You are right there!” + +Mr. Roscoe thought so much on the subject, however, that the next day he +went to Smith Institute to see Hector, without telling Guy where he was +going. + +Arrived there, he asked to see Mr. Smith. + +The latter did not appear to be in a happy frame of mind. + +“How do you do, Mr. Roscoe?” he said. + +“Very well,” answered Mr. Roscoe, briefly. “Mr. Smith, I wish to see my +ward.” + +“I am sorry you cannot see him, Mr. Roscoe.” + +“Cannot see him! Why not?” + +“Because he has left the institute.” + +Allan Roscoe frowned. + +“Why has he left?” he asked. + +“He has left against my will. I think he has been influenced by an usher +in my employ who has behaved very ungratefully. I took him, sir, when he +was in danger of starving, and now he leaves me at a day’s notice, after +doing all he can to break up my school.” + +“I feel no particular interest in your usher,” said Allan Roscoe, +coldly. “I wish to obtain information about the boy I placed under your +charge. Do you know where he has gone?” + +“No; he did not tell me,” answered the principal. + +“You wrote me that he had been detected in stealing a wallet!” + +“Yes,” answered Socrates, embarrassed. “Appearances were very much +against him.” + +“Do you still think he took it?” + +“I may have been mistaken,” answered Mr. Smith, nervously, for he began +to see that the course he had been pursuing was a very unwise one. + +“Hector has written me, inclosing a statement signed by two of his +schoolfellows, implicating your own nephew, and he charges that you made +the charge against him out of partiality for the same.” + +“There is considerable prejudice against my nephew,” said Socrates. + +“And for very good reasons, I should judge,” said Allan Roscoe, +severely. “Hector describes him as an outrageous bully and tyrant. I am +surprised, Mr. Smith, that you should have taken his part.” + +Now, Socrates had already had a stormy interview with his nephew. Though +partial to Jim, and not caring whether or not he bullied the other +boys, as soon as he came to see that Jim’s presence was endangering +the school, he reprimanded him severely. He cared more for himself--for +number one--than for anyone else in the universe. He had been +exceedingly disturbed by receiving letters from the fathers of Wilkins +and Ben Platt, and two other fathers, giving notice that they should +remove their sons at the end of the term, and demanding, in the +meantime, that his nephew should be sent away forthwith. + +And now Allan Roscoe, whom he had hoped would side with him, had also +turned against him. Then he had lost the services of a competent usher, +whom he got cheaper than he could secure any suitable successor, and, +altogether, things seemed all going against him. + +Moreover, Jim, who had been the occasion of all the trouble, had +answered him impudently, and Socrates felt that he had been badly used. +As to his own agency in the matter, he did not give much thought to +that. + +“My nephew is going to leave the school, Mr. Roscoe,” said Socrates, +half-apologetically. + +“I should think it was full time, Mr. Smith.” + +“Perhaps so,” said Smith; “but if I have stood by him, it has been +in ignorance. I cannot think him as wrong as your ward has probably +represented. Hector was jealous of him.” + +“Of his scholarship, I presume?” + +“Well, no,” answered the principal, reluctantly, “but of his physical +superiority, and--and influence in the school. I may say, in fact, +Mr. Roscoe, that till your ward entered the school it was a happy and +harmonious family. His coming stirred up strife and discontent, and +I consider him primarily responsible for all the trouble that has +occurred.” + +“I don’t defend Hector Roscoe,” said Allan, “but he writes me that your +nephew was a bully, who imposed upon his schoolfellows, and that he, by +taking their part and stopping this tyranny, incurred his ill-will and +yours.” + +“I supposed I should be misrepresented,” said Socrates, meekly. “I am +devoted to my school and my pupils, Mr. Roscoe. I am wearing out my life +in their service. I may make mistakes sometimes, but my heart--my heart, +Mr. Roscoe,” continued Socrates, tapping his waistcoat, “is right, and +acquits me of any intentional injustice.” + +“I am glad to hear it, Mr. Smith,” said Allan Roscoe, stiffly. “As +Hector has left you, I have only to settle your bill, and bid you +good-day.” + +“Will you not exert your influence to persuade the boy to return?” + pleaded Socrates. + +“As I don’t know where he is, I don’t see how I can,” said Allan Roscoe, +dryly. + +“That man is an arch hypocrite!” he said to himself, as he was returning +home. + +I may state here that at the end of the term half the pupils left Smith +Institute, and Socrates Smith lamented too late the folly that had made +him and his school unpopular. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI. HECTOR’S ARRIVAL IN NEW YORK. + + + +Mr. Crabb and Hector were sitting side by side in a railroad car, +speeding away from Smith Institute. In the heart of each was a feeling +of relief, which increased as each minute carried them farther away from +the school. + +“Hector,” said the usher, looking younger and happier than his pupil had +ever known him, “I feel like a free man now. It is a feeling that I have +not had since I first set foot in Smith Institute.” + +“I think you will lead a happier life in New York, Mr. Crabb.” + +“I am sure of it. Thanks to your considerate kindness, I shall for the +first time earn an ample salary, and even be able to lay up money. Is my +future pupil about your age?” + +“He is a year younger.” + +“Where did you make his acquaintance?” + +“At Saratoga, My father and I spent two months at Congress Hall two +summers ago, and as Walter’s family were also there, we naturally got to +be friends. He is a capital fellow, and you will be sure to like him.” + +“I am ready to like him after reading that letter he wrote you. Is he +fond of study?” + +“That is his weak point,” said Hector, laughing. “Walter was never +cut out for a scholar. I don’t mean, of course, that he hasn’t fair +capacity, but his taste doesn’t lie that way. However, he won’t give you +any trouble, only you won’t succeed as well as you may wish in pushing +him on.” + +“All boys are not cut out for scholars,” said the usher. “Now you, +Hector, would do excellently, and might hope to make a very successful +professional man.” + +Hector shook his head. + +“I must look to a different career,” he said. “I am to be the architect +of my own fortune, you know.” + +“What are your plans, Hector?” asked the usher. + +“I will consult with Mr. Boss, Walter’s father. By the way, he knows +nothing of the change in my circumstances. He supposes me to be the heir +to the Roscoe estate.” + +“Trouble has come upon you early, Hector. Should you need help +hereafter, you must remember that I am earning a good salary and--” + +“Thank you, Mr. Crabb,” gratefully, “but you will need all you earn. I +don’t look upon my loss of fortune as a trouble. I think it will make me +more manly and self-reliant, and stimulate me to exertion. I have a fair +education, and I am sure I can earn my living in some honest way.” + +“If that is your spirit, Hector, I am sure you will succeed. You are +young and hopeful. I am too much inclined to despond. I have always been +timid about the future. It is a matter of temperament.” + +It was early in the afternoon when they reached New York. As they +emerged from the depot a bright-faced boy came up eagerly and greeted +them. + +“How are you, Hector?” he said. “You see, I came to meet you. I have +been longing to have you come.” + +“I am just as glad to see you, Walter,” said Hector, heartily. “Mr. +Crabb, here is your future pupil, Walter Boss.” + +“I hope we may soon be friends, Walter,” said the usher, attracted by +the bright, sunny face of the boy. + +Walter gave the usher his hand. + +“I hope so, too,” he said, smiling. “I’ll try not to worry you any more +than I can help.” + +“I have no misgivings,” said Mr. Crabb, as he mentally contrasted his +new pupil with Jim Smith, and two or three others at the institute, who +had been a frequent source of trouble and annoyance. + +“Here is the carriage,” said Walter, pointing out a plain but handsome +carriage waiting outside. “Bundle in, both of you! I beg your pardon, +Mr. Crabb, for my familiarity. That was intended for Hector.” + +“I am ready to be classed with Hector,” said Mr. Crabb. + +“I am glad to hear you say so. I was afraid you would be stiff and +dignified.” + +“I think I shall take my cue from you.” + +“Oh, my rule is, go as you please. Edward, drive home!” + +The house occupied by Mr. Boss was a fine brown-stone dwelling on +Forty-second Street. Arrived there, Mr. Crabb was shown into a spacious +chamber, on the third floor, furnished with a luxury to which the poor +usher was quite unaccustomed. + +“Now, Hector, you can have a room to yourself, or you may share my den,” + said Walter. + +“I would rather share the den,” said Hector. + +“That’s what I hoped. You see, we shall have ever so much to say to each +other. We haven’t seen each other for over a year.” + +A slight shade of gravity overspread Hector’s face. Since he had met his +friend, his father had died, and he had been reduced from the heir of +wealth to a penniless orphan. Of this last change Walter knew nothing, +but Hector did not mean long to leave him in ignorance. + +At dinner the two newcomers saw Mr. Ross, from whom they received a +friendly welcome. The usher was put at his ease at once. + +“I hope you’ll get along with my boy,” said the bluff city merchant. “Of +one thing you may be assured, your scholarship won’t be severely taxed +in educating him. Walter is a pretty good boy, but he isn’t a prodigy of +learning.” + +“I may be some day, father,” said Walter, “with Mr. Crabb’s help.” + +“I take it Mr. Crabb isn’t able to perform miracles,” said Mr. Ross, +good-humoredly. “No, Mr. Crabb, I shan’t expect too much of you. Get +your pupil on moderately fast, and I shall be satisfied. I am glad, +Hector, that you were able to pay Walter a visit at this time.” + +“So am I, sir.” + +“I thought you might not be able to leave your studies.” + +“I have given up study, sir.” + +“I am surprised at that, Hector. I thought you contemplated going to +college.” + +“So I did, sir, but circumstances have changed my plans.” + +“Indeed!” + +“Yes, sir; I will explain after dinner, and will ask your advice.” + +Mr. Ross dropped the subject, and after dinner led the way to the +library, where he sank into an armchair, and, breathing a sigh of +satisfaction, said: “This, Mr. Crabb, is the most enjoyable part of the +twenty-four hours for me. I dismiss business cares and perplexities, and +read my evening paper, or some new book, in comfort.” + +As the usher looked about him and saw costly books, engravings, +furniture and pictures, he could well understand that in such +surroundings the merchant could take solid comfort. It was a most +agreeable contrast to the plain and poverty-stricken room at Smith +Institute, where the boys pursued their evening studies under his +superintendence. + +“Well, Hector, so you don’t propose to go back to school,” said the +merchant. “Isn’t that rather a sudden resolution?” + +“Yes, sir; but, as I said, circumstances have changed.” + +“What circumstances? Because you are rich, you don’t think you ought to +be idle, I hope?” + +“Oh, no, sir. It is because I have discovered that I am not rich.” + +“Not rich! I always understood that your father left a large estate,” + said Mr. Ross, in surprise. + +“So he did, sir.” + +“Didn’t it descend to you?” + +“I thought so till recently.” + +“Why don’t you think so now?” + +In answer, Hector told the story of the revelation made to him by Allan +Roscoe, after his father’s death. + +“You see, therefore,” he concluded, “that I am penniless, and a +dependent upon Mr. Allan Roscoe’s generosity.” + +“This is a most extraordinary story!” said the merchant, after a pause. + +“Yes, sir; it changes my whole future.” + +“I suppose Mr. Allan Roscoe is the beneficiary, and the estate goes to +him?” + +“Yes, sir.” + +“Did your father--the late Mr. Roscoe--ever hint to you anything which +could lead you to suspect that you were not his own, but an adopted +son?” + +“Never, Mr. Ross,” answered Hector, with emphasis. + +“Did he continue to treat you with affection.” + +“Always. Nothing in his manner ever would have led me to imagine that I +was not his own son.” + +“He left no will?” + +“No, sir.” + +“What are your plans?” + +“I do not wish to remain dependent upon Allan Roscoe. I should like to +obtain a situation of some kind in the city, if I can.” + +“I can probably serve you, then, after a while. For the present, stay +here as Walter’s companion.” + +“Thank you, sir; I should like nothing better.” + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII. LARRY DEANE. + + + +Not altogether in accordance with his inclinations, Walter was set to +work at his studies immediately under the direction of Mr. Crabb. He +asked his father for a week’s vacation to go about the city with Hector, +but his father answered in the negative. + +“You are too far behind in your studies, Walter,” he said. “You are two +years, at least, behind Hector, and cannot spare the time as well as +he.” + +“Hector will have to go round alone,” objected Walter. + +“It will do him no harm to get acquainted with the different parts +of the city, as that will be a kind of knowledge he may require if he +should obtain a situation.” + +“I shan’t see much of him.” + +“Oh, yes, you will; Mr. Crabb will not make you study all day. Mr. +Crabb, you may work with Walter from nine to one. This, with perhaps an +hour or more devoted to study in the afternoon or evening, will enable +him to make fair progress.” + +This arrangement struck Walter favorably, as he could, whenever he +desired it, spend the whole afternoon with Hector. + +Hector found it very pleasant to act upon the suggestion made by Mr. +Ross. He had visited the city of New York at different times, but had +never enjoyed the opportunity of exploring it by himself. His first +visit was made to Central Park, where he mingled with the crowds +wandering about in search of pleasure. + +He made his way to the lake, and took passage in one of the skiffs +which, in charge of a skilled oarsman, makes a tour of the pretty and +picturesque sheet of water. + +The second morning he turned his steps southward, and walked down +Broadway. It was a leisurely walk, for he had no scruple in stopping +wherever he saw anything in the streets or in the shop windows that +seemed to him worthy of attention. About the corner of Canal Street +he was very much surprised at a boy who was on his knees, blacking the +boots of an elderly gentleman--a boy whom he recognized at once as the +son of a man who had for years been in his father’s employ as gardener +at Castle Roscoe. + +“What brings him here?” thought Hector, much surprised. + +“Larry Deane!” he said, as the boy finished his job, and rose from his +feet to receive his pay. + +“Hector Roscoe!” exclaimed Larry, not much less surprised. + +“What brings you here, and what has reduced you to such work?” inquired +Hector. + +Larry Deane was a boy of about Hector’s age. He was a healthy-looking +country lad, looking like many another farmer’s son, fresh from +the country. He had not yet acquired that sharp, keen look which +characterizes, in most cases, the New York boy who has spent all his +life in the streets. + +“I can answer both your questions with the same word, Master Hector,” + said Larry, as a sober look swept over his broad, honest face. + +“Don’t call me master, Larry. We are equals here. But what is that +word?” + +“That word is trouble,’” answered the bootblack. + +“Come with me into this side street,” said Hector, leading the way into +Howard Street. “You have a story to tell, and I want to hear it.” + +“Yes, I have a story to tell.” + +“I hope your father and mother are well,” said Hector, interrupting him. + +“Yes, they are well in health, but they are in trouble, as I told you.” + +“What is the trouble?” + +“It all comes of Mr. Allan Roscoe,” answered Larry, “and his son, Guy.” + +“Tell me all about it.” + +“I was walking in the fields one day,” said Larry, “when Guy came out +and began to order me round, and call me a clodhopper and other unlikely +names, which I didn’t enjoy. Finally he pulled off my hat, and when I +put it back on my head, he pulled it off again. Finally I found the only +way to do was to give him as good as he sent. So I pulled off his hat +and threw it up in a tree. He became very angry, and ordered me to go up +after it. I wouldn’t do it, but walked away. The next day my father +was summoned to the house, where Mr. Allan Roscoe complained of me for +insulting his son. He asked my father to thrash me, and when father +refused, he discharged him from his employment. A day or two afterward a +new gardener came to Roscoe Castle, and father understood that there was +no chance of his being taken back.” + +“That was very mean in Mr. Roscoe,” said Hector, indignantly. + +“Yes, so it was; but father couldn’t do anything. He couldn’t get a +new place, for it wasn’t the right time of year, and Mr. Roscoe said he +wouldn’t give him a recommendation. Well, we had very little money in +the house, for mother has been sick of late years, and all father’s +extra earnings went to pay for medicines and the doctor’s bill. So one +day I told father I would come to New York and see if I couldn’t find +something to do.” + +“I think you did the right thing, Larry,” said Hector, approvingly. “It +was your duty to help your father if you could.” + +“I can’t help him much,” answered Larry. + +“What made you take up this business, Larry?” + +“I couldn’t get anything else to do, besides, this pays better than +working in a store or office.” + +“How--much can you earn at it?” + +“Six or seven dollars a week.” + +“I should think it would require all that to support you.” + +“It would if I went to a boarding house, but I can’t afford that.” + +“Where do you live?” + +“At the Newsboys’ Lodging House.” + +“How much does that cost you?” + +“For eighteen cents a day I get supper, lodging and breakfast. In the +middle of the day I go to a cheap restaurant.” + +“Then you are able to save something?” + +“Yes; last week I sent home three dollars, the week before two dollars +and a half.” + +“Why, that is doing famously. You are a good boy, Larry.” + +“Thank you, Hector; but, though it is doing very well for me, it isn’t +as much as they need at home. Besides, I can’t keep it up, as, after +a while, I shall need to buy some new clothes. If your father had been +alive, my father would never have lost his place. Master Hector, won’t +you use your influence with your uncle to have him taken back?” + +Hector felt keenly how powerless he was in the matter. He looked grave, +as he answered: + +“Larry, you may be sure that I would do all in my power to have your +father restored to the position from which he never should have been +removed; but I fear I can do nothing.” + +“Won’t you write to Mr. Roscoe?” pleaded Larry, who, of course, did not +understand why Hector was powerless. + +“Yes, I will write to him, but I am sorry to say that I have very little +influence with Mr. Roscoe.” + +“That is strange,” said Larry; “and you the owner of the estate.” + +Hector did not care to explain to Larry just how matters stood, so he +only said: + +“I can’t explain to you what seems strange to you, Larry, but I may be +able to do so some time. I will certainly write to Mr. Roscoe, as you +desire; but you must not build any hopes upon it. Meanwhile, will you +accept this from me, and send it to your father?” + +As he spoke, he drew from his pocketbook a five-dollar bill and handed +it to his humble friend. + +Larry would not have accepted it had he known that Hector was nearly as +poor as himself, but, supposing him to be the heir of a large and rich +estate, he felt no hesitation. + +“Thank you very much, Hector,” he said; “you had always a kind heart. +This money will do my father very much good. I will send it to him +to-day.” + +“Do you generally stand here, Larry?” asked Hector. + +“Yes.” + +“Then I will take pains to see you again.” + +“Shall you stay long in the city, Master Hector?” + +“Not Master Hector.” + +“Then Hector, if you don’t mind.” + +“I shall be here for the present--I don’t know how long.” + +“Then let me black your boots for nothing every time you come by--I want +to do something for you.” + +“Thank you, Larry; but I don’t like to have a friend perform such a +service. Remember me to your father when you write.” + +“I wish I could do something for Larry,” said Hector, to himself, as he +walked away. “As it is, I stand in need of help myself.” + +He was to make a friend that day under rather unusual circumstances. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII. TWO MORE ACQUAINTANCES. + + + +Hector continued his walk downtown. Despite the crowds of persons who +thronged the sidewalks, he did not anticipate meeting anyone else that +he knew. But he was destined to another surprise. On the corner of +Murray Street he saw two persons advancing toward him, the last, +perhaps, that he expected to see. Not to keep the reader in suspense, it +was Allan Roscoe and his son, Guy. + +Guy was the first to recognize Hector. Of course, he, too, was +surprised. + +“Why, there’s Hector!” he exclaimed, directing his father’s attention to +our hero. + +Allan Roscoe looked up quickly. It is hard to tell whether he felt glad +or the reverse at this meeting with the boy whom he called his ward. + +An instant later Hector recognized Guy and his father. + +“How do you do, Mr. Roscoe?” he said, politely. + +“Very well. When did you reach New York?” + +“On Saturday.” + +It should have been explained that Hector had spent Sunday quietly with +Mr. Ross and Walter, and that this was Monday. + +“Ahem! I was very much surprised at your leaving the institute,” said +Mr. Roscoe. + +“I explained to you in my letter why I proposed to leave it,” Hector +answered, coldly. + +“I did not think your reason sufficient.” + +“As Mr. Smith saw fit to bring a base charge against me, and persisted +in it, even after he must have been convinced that his nephew was +guilty, I was unwilling to remain under his charge any longer.” + +“The circumstances were against you,” said Mr. Roscoe. + +“You might have known me better than that, Mr. Roscoe,” said Hector, +proudly. “Yet you condemned me unheard.” + +“Of course, I am very glad that the charge is unfounded,” said Mr. +Roscoe, awkwardly. + +“Where there is smoke there is generally fire,” said Guy, spitefully. + +“I understand you, Guy,” said Hector, half turning to look at the boy +who had usurped his place. “I hope you won’t think it impolite if I say +that I care nothing whatever for your opinion.” + +“You put on as many airs as ever,” sneered Guy. “I should think you +would be a little more humble in your changed position.” + +“I have not changed, even if my position has,” answered Hector. “Money +is nothing to be proud of.” + +“I apprehend that the world judges differently,” said Allan Roscoe. +“Since you have taken your destiny into your own hands, you will excuse +me for asking how you intend to earn your living?” + +“I hope to get a mercantile position,” answered Hector. + +“Take my advice,” said Guy, with a derisive smile, “and buy yourself a +blacking box and brush. I am told bootblacks make a good deal of money.” + +“Hush, Guy!” said his father. “Do not insult Hector.” + +But Hector concerned himself but little with any slight received from +Guy Roscoe. His words, however, recalled his thoughts to the boy he had +so recently met, Larry Deane, and he resolved to see if he could not +help him by an appeal to Allan Roscoe. + +“Mr. Roscoe,” said he, quickly, “I nearly forgot something I want very +much to say to you.” + +“What is it?” asked his guardian, suspiciously. It occurred to him that +Hector wished to borrow some money, and he was considering how little he +could decently give him. + +“I hear you have discharged Reuben Deane from his position?” + +“How did you hear it?” + +“From his son, Larry.” + +“Where did you see Larry?” asked Allan, in some curiosity. + +“He has been driven to take up that employment which Guy so kindly +recommended to me.” + +“Larry Deane a bootblack! That’s a good one!” exclaimed Guy, with +evident relish. + +“I don’t think so,” said Hector. “The poor boy is picking a poor +living, and sending home what he can to his father, who cannot get new +employment. Mr. Roscoe, why did you discharge him?” + +“I can answer that question, though it’s none of your business all +the same,” volunteered Guy. “The boy Larry was impudent to me, and his +father took his part.” + +“Mr. Roscoe,” said Hector, “Reuben Deane was in my father’s employ +before I was born. Larry and I used to play together when we were little +boys, and since when we were older.” + +“A bootblack is a nice playmate,” said Guy, with his usual sneer. + +“He was not a bootblack then,” retorted Hector, “nor would he be now but +for your mean spite. Mr. Roscoe, as I happen to know, my father always +valued the services of Reuben Deane, and I ask, in his name, that you +give him back his place.” + +“My brother may have been deceived in him,” said Allan Roscoe, coldly, +emphasizing the first two words, in order to remind Hector that he was +no longer to consider him as his father; “but I cannot promise to adopt +all his views and protege’s. I have displaced Deane and substituted for +him a gardener with whom I am better pleased.” + +“Have you no sympathy for the poverty and distress of a man who has +served our family faithfully for so many years?” asked Hector, half +indignantly. + +“My father is competent to manage his own affairs,” said Guy, +offensively. + +“You don’t appear to think so, or you would not answer for him,” + retorted Hector. + +“Boys, I must request you to desist from this bickering,” said Allan +Roscoe. “I am sorry, Hector, that I cannot comply with your request. By +the way, you did not tell me where you were staying.” + +“With a gentleman on Forty-second Street.” + +“What is his name?” + +“Andrew Ross.” + +“Not the eminent merchant of that name?” asked Allan Roscoe, in +surprise. + +“Yes, I believe so.” + +“He is worth a million.” + +“I supposed he was rich. He lives in an elegant house.” + +“Where did you get acquainted with him, Hector?” + +“At Saratoga, a year and a half ago.” + +“Did you beg him to take you in?” asked Guy, unpleasantly. + +Hector quietly ignored the question. + +“Walter Boss and I have been very intimate, and I was invited to pay him +a visit.” + +“Does he know that you are a poor boy?” asked Guy. + +“I have communicated to Mr. Ross what your father told me,” answered +Hector, coldly. “He is a real friend, and it made no difference in his +treatment of me. I hope to get a situation through his influence.” + +“You are lucky to have such a man for a friend,” said Allan Roscoe, who +would himself have liked to become acquainted with a man whose social +position was so high. “I hope you will not misrepresent me to him. +Should any opportunity occur, I will try to procure you employment.” + +“Thank you, sir,” said Hector, but his tone lacked heartiness. He saw +that his being a visitor to Mr. Ross and his son had made a difference +in his favor. Guy, too, began to think he might be a little more +gracious. He, like his father, liked to associate with boys of high +social position, and he would have liked to be introduced to Walter +Ross. + +“What is your number?” he asked of Hector, “I don’t know but I’ll call +and see you some time. Is Walter Ross generally at home?” + +“Don’t put yourself to any inconvenience to call,” said Hector, +significantly. “Walter and I are generally away in the afternoon.” + +“Oh, I don’t care to call upon you,” said Guy, annoyed. “I can have all +the company I want.” + +“I won’t detain you any longer, Mr. Roscoe,” said Hector, realizing that +the conversation had occupied considerable time. “Good-morning.” + +“That boy is as proud as ever,” said Guy, after Hector had left them. +“He doesn’t seem to realize that he has lost his money.” + +“He has not had time to realize it yet. It won’t be long before he will +understand the difference it makes.” + +“I am glad he isn’t my cousin,” continued Guy. “I dislike him more than +any boy I know.” + +Allan Roscoe looked thoughtful. + +“I fear that boy will give me trouble yet,” he said to himself. “He +evidently suspects that something is wrong.” + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX. JIM SMITH EFFECTS A LOAN. + + + +After parting with Allan Roscoe and Guy, Hector kept on his way +downtown. He did not expect to meet any more acquaintances, but he +was again to be surprised. Standing on the sidewalk having his boots +blacked, he recognized the schoolfellow he had least reason to like--Jim +Smith. + +“What brings Jim here?” he asked himself, in some surprise. + +He did not feel inclined to go up and claim acquaintance, but it chanced +that he became witness of a piece of meanness characteristic of Jim. + +When the young bootblack had finished polishing his shoes, he waited for +his customary fee. + +Jim fumbled in his pockets, and finally produced two cents. + +“There, boy,” he said, placing them in the hand of the disgusted knight +of the brush. + +“What’s that for?” he asked. + +“It’s your pay.” + +“Look here, mister, you’ve made a mistake; here’s only two cents.” + +“I know it.” + +“Do you think I work for any such price as that?” + +“Perhaps you expect a dollar!” sneered Jim. + +“No, I don’t; but a nickel’s my lowest price. Plenty of gentlemen give +me a dime.” + +“That’s too much; I’ve paid you all I’m going to.” + +“Wait a minute. That boot don’t look as well as the other.” + +Jim unsuspiciously allowed the boy to complete his work, but he had +occasion to regret it. The bootblack hastily rubbed his brush in the mud +on the sidewalk and daubed it on one of Jim’s boots, quite effacing the +shine. + +“There, that’ll do,” he said, and, scrambling to his feet, ran round the +corner. + +Then, for the first time, Jim looked down, and saw what the boy had +done. He uttered an exclamation of disgust and looked round hastily to +see where the offender had betaken himself. His glance fell upon Hector, +who was quietly looking on, and not without a sense of enjoyment. + +It often happens that we greet cordially those for whom we have even a +feeling of aversion when we meet them unexpectedly away from our usual +haunts. Jim, who was beginning to regret that circumstances had forced +him to leave the serene sanctuary of Smith Institute, since now he would +be under the necessity of making his own living, was glad to see our +hero. + +“Is it you, Roscoe?” he said, eagerly. + +“Yes,” answered Hector, coolly. + +“What are you doing?” + +“Walking about the city, just at present.” + +“Suppose we go together.” + +Hector hardly knew how to refuse, and the two boys kept down Broadway in +company. + +“You’re surprised to see me, ain’t you?” asked Jim. + +“Rather so.” + +“You see, I got tired of the school. I’ve been there three years, so I +told my uncle I would come to New York and see if I couldn’t get work.” + +“I hope you may succeed,” said Hector, for he would not allow his +dislikes to carry him too far. He felt that there was room in the world +for Jim and himself, too. + +“Are you going to work?” asked Jim. + +“I hope so.” + +“Got anything in view?” + +“Not exactly.’” + +“It would be a good thing if we could get into the same place.” + +“Do you say that because we have always agreed so well?” asked Hector, +amused. + +“We may be better friends in future,” said Jim, with a grin. + +Hector was judiciously silent. + +“Where are you staying?” + +“Up on Forty-second Street.” + +“That’s a good way uptown, isn’t it?” + +“Yes, pretty far up.” + +“Are you boarding?” + +“No; I am visiting some friends.” + +“Couldn’t you get me in there as one of your school friends?” + +This question indicated such an amount of assurance on the part of his +old enemy that at first Hector did not know how to reply in fitting +terms. + +“I couldn’t take such a liberty with my friends,” he said. “Besides, it +doesn’t strike me that we were on very intimate terms.” + +But Jim was not sensitive to a rebuff. + +“The fact is,” he continued, “I haven’t got much money, and it would +be very convenient to visit somebody. Perhaps you could lend me five +dollars?” + +“I don’t think I could. I think I shall have to say good-morning.” + +“I can’t make anything out of him,” said Jim to himself, +philosophically. “I wonder if he’s got any money. Uncle Socrates told me +his uncle had cast him off.” + +Going up Broadway instead of down, it was not long before Jim met Allan +Roscoe and Guy, whom he immediately recognized. Not being troubled with +immodesty, he at once walked up to Mr. Roscoe and held out his hand. + +“Good-morning, Mr. Roscoe!” he said, in an ingratiating voice. + +“Good-morning, young man. Where have I met you?” asked Allan Roscoe, +puzzled. + +“At Smith Institute. I am the nephew of Mr. Smith.” + +“What! Not the nephew who--” + +Mr. Roscoe found it hard to finish the sentence. He didn’t like to +charge Jim with stealing to his face. + +“I know what you mean,” said Jim, boldly. “I am the one whom your nephew +charged with taking money which he took himself. I don’t want to +say anything against him, as he is your nephew, but he is an artful +young--but no matter. You are his uncle.” + +“He is not my nephew, but was only cared for by my brother,” said Allan +Roscoe. “You may tell me freely, my good fellow, all the truth. You say +that Hector stole the money which your uncle lost.” + +“Yes; but he has made my uncle believe that I took it. It is hard upon +me,” said Jim, pathetically, “as I was dependent upon my uncle. I have +been driven forth into the cold world by my benefactor because your +nephew prejudiced his mind against me.” + +“I believe him, papa,” said Guy, who was only too glad to believe +anything against Hector. “I have thought all along that Hector was +guilty.” + +“Is that your son?” asked the crafty Jim. “I wish he had come to the +institute, instead of Hector. He is a boy that I couldn’t help liking.” + +There are few who are altogether inaccessible to flattery. At any rate, +Guy was not one of this small number. + +“I feel sure you are not guilty,” said Guy, regarding Jim graciously. +“It was a very mean thing in Hector to get you into trouble.” + +“It was, indeed,” said Jim. “I am cast out of my uncle’s house, and now +I have no home, and hardly any money.” + +“Hector is in the city. Have you seen him?” asked Allan Roscoe. + +“Yes; I met him a few minutes since.” + +“Did you speak to him?” + +“Yes; I reproached him for getting me into trouble, but he only laughed +in my face. He told me he hated you both,” added Jim, ingenuously. + +“Just like Hector!” said Guy. “What have I always told you, papa?” + +“I am sorry you have suffered such injustice at the hands of anyone in +any way connected with my family,” said Mr. Roscoe, who, like Guy, was +not indisposed to believe anything to the discredit of Hector. “I do +not feel responsible for his unworthy acts, but I am willing to show my +sympathy by a small gift.” + +He produced a five-dollar note and put it into Jim’s ready hand. + +“Thank you, sir,” he said. “You are a gentleman.” + +So the interview closed, and Jim left the spot, chuckling at the manner +in which he had wheedled so respectable a sum out of Allan Roscoe. + +Meanwhile Hector, after looking about him, turned, and, getting into +a Broadway stage, rode uptown as far as Twenty-third Street, where +the stage turned down toward Sixth Avenue. He concluded to walk the +remainder of the way. + +As he was walking up Madison Avenue, his attention was drawn to a little +girl in charge of a nursemaid. The latter met an acquaintance and forgot +her charge. The little girl, left to herself, attempted to cross the +street just as a private carriage was driven rapidly up the avenue. The +driver was looking away, and it seemed as if, through the double neglect +of the driver and the nurse, the poor child would be crushed beneath the +hoofs of the horses and the wheels of the carriage. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX. A BRAVE DEED. + + + +Hector’s heart stood still as he realized the peril of the child. He +dashed forward on the impulse of the moment, and barely succeeded in +catching up the little girl and drawing her back out of harm’s way. +The driver, who had done his best to rein up his horses, but without +success, ejaculated with fervent gratitude, for he, too, had a child of +his own about the age of the little girl, “God bless you, boy.” + +The little girl seemed less concerned than anyone of the spectators. She +put her hand confidently in Hector’s, and said: “Take me to Mary.” + +“And who is Mary?” asked Hector, kindly. + +He did not require an answer, for the nurse, who, rather late in the +day, had awakened to the fact that her charge was in danger, came +running forward, crying: “Oh! Miss Gracie, what made you run away?” + +“The little girl would have been killed but for this boy’s timely help,” + said a middle-aged spectator, gravely. + +“I’m sure I don’t know what possessed her to run away,” said Mary, +confusedly. + +“She wouldn’t if she had been properly looked after,” said the +gentleman, sharply, for he had children of his own. + +Hector was about to release the child, now that he had saved her, but +she was not disposed to let him go. + +“You go with me, too!” she said. + +She was a pretty child, with a sweet face, rimmed round by golden curls, +her round, red cheeks glowing with exercise. + +“What is her name?” asked Hector, of the nurse. + +“Grace Newman,” answered the nurse, who felt the necessity of saying +something in her own defense. “She’s a perfect little runaway. She +worries my life out running round after her.” + +“Grace Newman!” said the middle-aged gentleman already referred to. +“Why, she must be the child of my friend, Titus Newman, of Pearl +Street.” + +“Yes, sir,” said the nurse. + +“My old friend little knows what a narrow escape his daughter has had.” + +“I hope you won’t tell him, sir,” said Mary, nervously. + +“Why not?” + +“Because he would blame me.” + +“And so he ought!” said the gentleman, nodding vigorously. “It’s no +merit of yours that she wasn’t crushed beneath the wheels of that +carriage. If you had been attending to your duty, she wouldn’t have been +in danger.” + +“I don’t see as it’s any business of yours,” said Mary, pertly. “You +ain’t her father, or her uncle.” + +“I am a father, and have common humanity,” said the gentleman, “and I +consider you unfit for your place.” + +“Come along, Grace!” said Mary, angry at being blamed. “You’ve behaved +very badly, and I’m going to take you home.” + +“Won’t you come, too?” asked the little girl, turning to Hector. + +“No, there’s no call for him to come,” said the nurse, pulling the child +away. + +“Good-by, Gracie,” said Hector, kindly. + +“Good-by!” responded the child. + +“These nursemaids neglect their charges criminally,” said the gentleman, +directing his remarks to Hector. “Mr. Newman owes his child’s safety, +perhaps her life, to your prompt courage.” + +“She was in great danger,” said Hector. “I was afraid at first I could +not save her.” + +“A second later and it would have been too late. What is your name, my +brave young friend?” + +“Hector Roscoe, sir.” + +“It is a good name. Do you live in the city?” + +“At present I do, sir. I was brought up in the country.” + +“Going to school, I take it.” + +“I am looking for a place, sir.” + +“I wish I had one to give you. I retired from business two years since, +and have no employment for anyone.” + +“Thank you, sir; I should have liked to serve you.” + +“But I’ll tell you what, my young friend, I have a considerable +acquaintance among business men. If you will give me your address, I may +have something to communicate to you ere long.” + +“Thank you, sir.” + +Hector drew a card from his pocket, and added to it the number of Mr. +Ross’ house. + +“I am much obliged to you for your kind offer,” he said. + +“You don’t look as if you stood in need of employment,” said the +gentleman, noticing the fine material of which Hector’s suit was made. + +“Appearances are sometimes deceitful,” said Hector, half smiling. + +“You must have been brought up in affluence,” said Mr. Davidson, for +this was his name. + +“Yes, sir, I was. Till recently I supposed myself rich.” + +“You shall tell me the story some time; now I must leave you.” + +“Well,” thought Hector, as he made his way homeward, “I have had +adventures enough for one morning.” + +When Hector reached the house in Forty-second Street, he found Walter +just rising from his lessons. + +“Well, Hector, what have you been doing?” asked Walter. + +“Wandering about the city.” + +“Did you see anybody you knew while doing so?” + +“Oh, yes! I was particularly favored. I saw Allan Roscoe and Guy--” + +“You don’t say so! Were they glad to see you?” + +“Not particularly. When Guy learned that I was staying here, he proposed +to call and make your acquaintance.” + +“I hope you didn’t encourage him,” said Walter, with a grimace. + +“No; I told him that we were generally out in the afternoon.” + +“That is right.” + +“I suppose you have been hard at work, Walter?” + +“Ask Mr. Crabb.” + +“Walter has done very well,” said the usher. “If he will continue to +study as well, I shall have no fault to find.” + +“If I do, will you qualify me to be a professor in twelve months’ time?” + +“I hope not, for in that case I should lose my scholar, and have to bow +to his superior knowledge.” + +“Then you don’t know everything, Mr. Crabb?” + +“Far from it! I hope your father didn’t engage me in any such illusion.” + +“Because,” said Walter, “I had one teacher who pretended to know all +there was worth knowing. I remember how annoyed he was once when I +caught him in a mistake in geography.” + +“I shall not be annoyed at all when you find me out in a mistake, for I +don’t pretend to be very learned.” + +“Then I think we’ll get along,” said Walter, favorably impressed by the +usher’s modesty. + +“I suppose if I didn’t know anything we should get along even better,” + said Mr. Crabb, amused. + +“Well, perhaps that might be carrying things too far!” Walter admitted. + +In the afternoon Hector and Walter spent two hours at the gymnasium in +Twenty-eighth Street, and walked leisurely home after a healthful amount +of exercise. + +For some reason, which he could not himself explain, Hector said nothing +to Walter about his rescue of the little girl on Madison Avenue, though +he heard of it at the gymnasium. + +One of the boys, Henry Carroll, said to Walter: “There was a little girl +came near being run over on Madison Avenue this noon!” + +“Did you see it?” + +“No, but I heard of it.” + +“Who was the little girl?” + +“Grace Newman.” + +“I know who she is. How did it happen?” + +The boy gave a pretty correct account. + +“Some boy saved her,” he concluded, “by running forward and hauling her +out of the road just in time. He ran the risk of being run over himself. +Mr. Newman thinks everything of little Grace. I’d like to be in that +boy’s shoes.” + +Neither of the boys noticed that Hector’s face was flushed, as he +listened to the account of his own exploit. + +The next morning, among the letters laid upon the breakfast table was +one for Hector Roscoe. + +“A letter for you, Hector,” said Mr. Ross, examining the envelope in +some surprise. “Are you acquainted with Titus Newman, the Pearl Street +merchant?” + +“No, sir,” answered Hector, in secret excitement. + +“He seems to have written to you,” said Mr. Ross. + +Hector took the letter and tore open the envelope. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI. AN IMPORTANT LETTER. + + + +The letter alluded to in the last chapter ran thus. It was written from +Mr. Newman’s house in Madison Avenue, though inclosed in a business +envelope: + +“MASTER HECTOR ROSCOE: I learn that I am indebted to you for the rescue +of my little daughter from imminent peril during my absence from home +yesterday. A friend who witnessed her providential escape has given me +such an account of your bravery in risking your own life to save that of +an unknown child, that I cannot rest till I have had an opportunity +of thanking you in person. You will do me a favor, if not otherwise +engaged, if you will call at my house this evening, about eight o’clock. +Yours gratefully, + +“Titus NEWMAN.” + +It is needless to say that Hector read this letter with feelings of +gratification. It is true, as we are often told, that “virtue is its own +reward,” but it is, nevertheless, pleasant to feel that our efforts to +do well and serve others are appreciated. + +“No bad news, I hope, Hector?” said Walter. + +“No,” answered Hector. “You may read the letter, if you like, Mr. Ross.” + +Mr. Ross did so, and aloud, much to the surprise of everyone at table. + +“You did not tell me of this,” said Walter, in astonishment. + +“No,” answered Hector, smiling. + +“But why not?” + +“Because Hector is modest,” Mr. Ross answered for him. “Now, if you had +done such a thing, Walter, we should have been sure to hear of it.” + +“I don’t know,” returned Walter, comically. “You don’t know how many +lives I have saved within the last few years.” + +“Nor anyone else, I fancy,” replied his father. “By the way, Hector, +there is a paragraph about it in the Herald of this morning. I read +it, little suspecting that you were the boy whose name the reporter was +unable to learn.” + +Hector read the paragraph in question with excusable pride. It was, in +the main, correct. + +“How old was the little girl?” asked Walter. + +“Four years old, I should think.” + +“That isn’t quite so romantic as if she had been three times as old.” + +“I couldn’t have rescued her quite as easily, in that case.” + +Of course, Hector was called upon for an account of the affair, which +he gave plainly, without adding any of those embellishments which some +boys, possibly some of my young readers, might have been tempted to put +in. + +“You are fortunate to have obliged a man like Titus Newman, Hector,” + said Mr. Ross. “He is a man of great wealth and influence.” + +“Do you know him, papa?” asked Walter. + +“No--that is, not at all well. I have been introduced to him.” + +Punctually at eight o’clock Hector ascended the steps of a handsome +residence on Madison Avenue. The door was opened by a colored servant, +of imposing manners. + +“Is Mr. Newman at home?” asked Hector, politely. + +“Yes, sar.” + +“Be kind enough to hand him this card?” + +“Yes, sar.” + +Presently the servant reappeared, saying: + +“Mr. Newman will see you, sar, in the library. I will induct you +thither.” + +“Thank you,” answered Hector, secretly amused at the airs put on by his +sable conductor. + +Seated at a table, in a handsomely furnished library, sat a stout +gentleman of kindly aspect. He rose quickly from his armchair and +advanced to meet our hero. + +“I am glad to see you, my young friend,” he said. “Sit there,” pointing +to a smaller armchair opposite. “So you are the boy who rescued my dear +little girl?” + +His voice softened as he uttered these last few words, and it was easy +to see how strong was the paternal love that swelled his heart. + +“I was fortunate in having the opportunity, Mr. Newman.” + +“You have rendered me a service I can never repay. When I think that but +for you the dear child--” his voice faltered. + +“Don’t think of it, Mr. Newman,” said Hector, earnestly. “I don’t like +to think of it myself.” + +“And you exposed yourself to great danger, my boy!” + +“I suppose I did, sir; but that did not occur to me at the time. It was +all over in an instant.” + +“I see you are modest, and do not care to take too great credit to +yourself, but I shall not rest till I have done something to express my +sense of your noble courage. Now, I am a man of business, and it is my +custom to come to the point directly. Is there any way in which I can +serve you.” + +“Yes, sir.” + +“I am glad to hear it. Name it.” + +“I am looking for a situation in some mercantile establishment, Mr. +Newman.” + +“Pardon me, but, judging from your appearance, I should not suppose that +it was a matter of importance to you.” + +“Yes, sir; I am poor.” + +“You don’t look so.” + +“You judge from my dress, no doubt”--Hector was attired in a suit of +fine texture--“I suppose I may say,” he added, with a smile, “that I +have seen better days.” + +“Surely, you are young to have met with reverses, if that is what you +mean to imply,” the merchant remarked, observing our hero with some +curiosity. + +“Yes, sir; if you have time, I will explain to you how it happened.” + +As the story has already been told, I will not repeat Hector’s words. + +Mr. Newman listened with unaffected interest. + +“It is certainly a curious story,” he said. “Did you, then, quietly +surrender your claims to the estate simply upon your uncle’s unsupported +assertion?” + +“I beg pardon, sir. He showed me my father’s--that is, Mr. +Roscoe’s--letter.” + +“Call him your father, for I believe he was.” + +“Do you, sir?” asked Hector, eagerly. + +“I do. Your uncle’s story looks like an invention. Let me think, was +your father’s name Edward Roscoe?” + +“Yes, sir.” + +“And in what year were you born?” + +“In the year 1856.” + +“At Sacramento?” + +“Yes, sir.” + +“Then I feel quite sure that I made your father’s acquaintance in the +succeeding year, and your own as well, though you were an infant--that +is, you were less than a year old.” + +“Did my father say anything of having adopted me?” + +“No; on the contrary, he repeatedly referred to you as his child, and +your mother also displayed toward you an affection which would have been +at least unusual if you had not been her own child.” + +“Then you think, sir--” Hector began. + +“I think that your uncle’s story is a mere fabrication. He has contrived +a snare in which you have allowed yourself to be enmeshed.” + +“I am only a boy, sir. I supposed there was nothing for me to do but to +yield possession of the estate when my uncle showed me the letter.” + +“It was natural enough; and your uncle doubtless reckoned upon your +inexperience and ignorance of the law.” + +“What would you advise me to do, sir?” + +“Let me think.” + +The merchant leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes, and gave himself +up to reflection. In the midst of his reverie the pompous servant +entered, bringing a letter upon a silver salver. + +“A letter, sar,” he said. + +“That will do. You can go, Augustus.” + +“Yes, sar.” + +Mr. Newman glanced at the postmark, tore open the letter, read it with a +frown, and then, as if he had suddenly formed a resolution, he said: + +“This letter has helped me to a decision.” + +Hector regarded him with surprise. What could the letter have to do with +him? + +“Have you any objection to going out to California by the next steamer?” + asked Mr. New-man. + +“No, sir,” answered Hector, with animation “Am I to go alone?” + +“Yes, alone.” + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII. A WAYWARD YOUTH. + + + +It is needless to say that Hector was very much surprised, not to say +startled, at this sudden proposal. What could Mr. Newman possibly want +him to go to California for? If on business, how did it happen that he +trusted a mere boy with so responsible a mission? + +The explanation came soon. + +“No doubt, you are surprised,” said the merchant, “at the proposal I +have made you. I am not prepared myself to say that I am acting with +good judgment. In making it, I have obeyed a sudden impulse, which +is not always prudent. Yet, in more than one instance, I have found +advantage in obeying such an impulse. But to my explanation. By the way, +let me first ask you two or three questions. Have you any taste for any +kind of liquor?” + +“No, sir,” answered Hector, promptly. + +“Even if you had, do you think you would have self-control enough to +avoid entering saloons and gratifying your tastes?” + +“Yes, sir.” + +“That is well. Do you play pool?” + +“No, sir,” answered Hector, wondering whither all these questions +tended. + +“I ask because playing pool in public rooms paves the way for +intemperance, as bars are generally connected with such establishments.” + +“I don’t even know how to play pool, sir,” said Hector. + +“Do you ever bet or gamble?” continued the merchant. + +“No, sir.” + +“You will understand why I ask all these questions when I tell you that +I have a nephew now nineteen years of age, who does all these things. He +is not only my nephew, but my ward. I have a moderate sum of money in my +charge which belongs to him--enough, if he were a young man of correct +habits, to buy him an interest in a respectable business. That use I +had proposed to make of it when he reached twenty-one, or rather, to +recommend to him, but for his yielding to temptation in more than one +form, and, finally, running away from my protection.” + +“Where is he now, sir?” + +“In California. Three months since he disappeared, and it was some +weeks before I learned where he had gone. As I do not intend to conceal +anything from you, I must tell you that he carried with him five hundred +dollars purloined from my desk. This grieved me most of all. I wrote out +to a mercantile friend in San Francisco, who knows the boy by sight, to +hunt him up, and see if he could do anything for him. He writes +me--this is the letter I hold in my hand--that he has seen Gregory, and +expostulated with him, but apparently without effect. The boy has pretty +much run through his money, and will soon be in need. I do not intend, +however, to send him money, for he would misuse it. I don’t think +it will do him any harm to suffer a little privation, as a fitting +punishment for his wayward courses. I would not wish him to suffer too +much, and I am anxious lest he should go further astray. I now come to +the explanation of my proposal to you. I wish you to go to California, +to seek out Gregory, obtain his confidence, and then persuade him to +give up his bad course, and come home with you, prepared to lead a +worthier life. Are you willing to undertake it?” + +“Yes, sir,” answered Hector. “I will undertake it, since you are willing +to place such a responsibility upon me. I will do my best to accomplish +what you desire, but I may fail.” + +“In that case I will not blame you,” answered the merchant. + +“What sort of a boy is Gregory? Shall I find it difficult to gain his +confidence?” + +“No; he is a youth of very amiable disposition--indeed, he was generally +popular among his companions and associates, but he is morally weak, and +finds it difficult to cope with temptation. I believe that a boy like +you will stand a better chance of influencing him than a man of mature +age.” + +“I will do my best, sir.” + +“One thing more. You may assure Gregory that I forgive him the theft of +my money, though it gave me great pain to find him capable of such an +act, and that I am prepared to receive him back into my favor if he will +show himself worthy of it. I will give you a letter to that effect. Now, +when will you be ready to start?” + +“By the next steamer.” + +“That is well.” + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII. MR. ROSCOE MAKES A DISCOVERY. + + + +The California steamer was to start in two days. This gave Hector but +little time for preparation, but then he had but scanty preparation to +make. Mr. Ross and Walter were naturally surprised at the confidence +placed in Hector by a stranger, but were inclined to think that our hero +would prove himself worthy of it. + +“Don’t be gone long, Hector,” said Walter. “I shall miss you. I depended +upon having your company for a good while yet.” + +“Come back to my house, Hector,” said Mr. Ross, cordially, “when you +return, whether you are successful or not. Consider it a home where you +are always welcome.” + +“Thank you, sir,” said Hector, gratefully. “I wish you were my uncle +instead of Mr. Allan Roscoe.” + +“By the way, Hector, take time, while you are in California, to go to +Sacramento to see if you can learn anything of your early history. It is +most important to you, and I’m sure Mr. Newman will not object.” + +“He has already suggested it to me,” said Hector. “Moreover, he has +given me the name of the minister who baptized me, and, should he +be dead or removed, he has given me the name of another person--a +lady--with whom my father boarded during his residence in Sacramento.” + +“It is to be hoped that one or the other of these persons may still be +living. It will afford me sincere pleasure if, by reliable testimony, +you can defeat the wicked conspiracy into which Mr. Roscoe has entered, +with the object of defrauding you of your inheritance.” + +Hector’s ticket was purchased by Mr. Newman, and he was provided with +a considerable sum of money as well as an order upon a bank in San +Francisco for as much more as he might need. + +“You are trusting me to an unusual extent, Mr. Newman,” said Hector. + +“That is true, but I have no hesitation in doing so. I am a close +observer, and, though I have seen but little of you, I have seen enough +to inspire me with confidence.” + +“I hope I shall deserve it, sir.” + +“That depends upon yourself, so far as integrity and fidelity go. +Whether you succeed or not in your undertaking depends partly upon +circumstances.” + +My young readers may wonder how Hector would be expected to recognize a +young man whom he had never seen. He was provided with a photograph of +Gregory, which had been taken but six months before, and which, as Mr. +Newman assured him, bore a strong resemblance to his nephew. + +“He may have changed his name,” he said, “but he cannot change his face. +With this picture you will be able to identify him.” + +The great steamer started on her long voyage. Walter and Mr. Crabb +stood on the pier and watched it till Hector’s face was no longer +distinguishable for the distance, and then went home, each feeling that +he had sustained a loss. + +Among those who watched the departure of the steamer was a person who +escaped Hector’s notice, for he arrived just too late to bid good-by to +an acquaintance who was a passenger on board. + +This person was no other than Allan Roscoe. + +When he recognized Hector’s face among the passengers he started in +surprise and alarm. + +“Hector Roscoe going to California!” he inwardly ejaculated. “What can +be his object, and where did he raise money to go?” + +Conscience whispered: “He has gone to ferret out the fraud which you +have practiced upon him, and his mission is fraught with peril to you.” + +Allan Roscoe returned to his elegant home in a state of nervous +agitation, which effectually prevented him from enjoying the luxuries +he was now able to command. A sword seemed suspended over him, but +he resolved not to give up the large stake for which he played so +recklessly without a further effort. + +By the next mail he wrote a confidential letter to an old acquaintance in +San Francisco. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV. FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF SAN FRANCISCO. + + + +Hector was seasick for the first twenty-four hours, but at the end of +that time he had become accustomed to the rise and fall of the billows, +and was prepared to enjoy himself as well as he could in the confined +quarters of an ocean steamer. + +Of course, he made acquaintances. Among them was a clergyman, of middle +age, who was attracted by our hero’s frank countenance. They met +on deck, and took together the “constitutional” which travelers on +shipboard find essential for their health. + +“You seem to be alone?” said the clergyman. + +“Yes, sir.” + +“Pardon me, but it is uncommon to meet one so young as yourself who +is making so long a journey. I suppose, however, you have friends or +relatives in California.” + +“No, sir; I know no one, to my knowledge, in the Golden State.” + +“Then, perhaps, you go out in search of employment?” + +“No, sir; I go out on business.” + +“You are a young business man,” said the clergyman, smiling. + +“Perhaps I should rather say, on a mission. I am sent out, by a New York +merchant, in search of his nephew, who is somewhere in San Francisco.” + +Hector explained himself further. The minister, Mr. Richards, listened +with attention. + +“Certainly,” he said, “a great responsibility rests upon you. Mr. Newman +must have great confidence in you.” + +“I hope he will not find it misplaced,” answered Hector, modestly. + +“It is certainly a compliment to you that a shrewd business man should +consider you worthy of such confidence. The presumption is that he has +good reason for his confidence. I think, my young friend, that you will +enjoy your visit to our State.” + +“Then you reside there, sir?” + +“Oh, yes. I went out twenty years since; in fact, just after I graduated +from the theological school. I spent a year at the mines; but, at the +end of that time, finding an opening in my profession, I accepted the +charge of a church in Sacramento.” + +“In Sacramento?” exclaimed Hector, eagerly. + +“Yes. Have you any associations with that city?” + +“It is my birthplace, sir.” + +“Then you are not a stranger to California?” + +“Yes, sir; I came away so early that I have no recollection of the +place.” + +“What is your name?” asked the clergyman. + +“Hector Roscoe.” + +“Roscoe? The name sounds familiar to me,” said the minister, +thoughtfully. + +“How long since you went to Sacramento, Mr. Richards?” + +“I went there in 1855.” + +“And I was born there in 1856. My father and mother lived there for some +time afterwards.” + +“It is probable that I met them, for Sacramento was a small place then. +Shall you go there?” + +“Yes, sir. I have a special reason for going--a reason most important to +me.” + +As Mr. Richards naturally looked inquisitive, Hector confided in him +further. + +“You see, sir,” he concluded, “that it is most important to me to +ascertain whether I am really the son of the man whom I have always +regarded as my father. If so, I am heir to a large fortune. If not, my +uncle is the heir, and I certainly should not wish to disturb him in the +enjoyment of what the law awards him.” + +“That is quite proper,” said Mr. Richards. “In your investigation, it +is quite possible that I may be able to help you materially, through my +long residence and extensive acquaintance in Sacramento. When you come +there, lose no time in calling upon me. Whatever help I can render you +shall cheerfully be given.” + +“Thank you, sir.” + +“Shall you be much disappointed if you find that you are only the +adopted, instead of the real, son of Mr. Roscoe?” + +“Yes, sir; but it won’t be chiefly on account of the property. I shall +feel alone in the world, without relations or family connections, with +no one to sympathize with me in my successes, or feel for me in my +disappointments.” + +“I understand you, and I can enter into your feelings.” + +Arrived in San Francisco, Hector took lodgings at a comfortable hotel on +Kearney Street. He didn’t go to the Palace Hotel, or Baldwin’s, though +Mr. Newman had supplied him with ample funds, and instructed him to +spend whatever he thought might be necessary. + +“I mean to show myself worthy of his confidence,” said Hector to +himself. + +He arrived in the evening, and was glad to remain quietly at the hotel +the first evening, and sleep off the effects of his voyage. After +the contracted stateroom, in which he had passed over twenty days, +he enjoyed the comfort and luxury of a bed on shore and a good-sized +bedroom. But, in the morning, he took a long walk, which was full of +interest. Less than five minutes’ walk from his hotel was the noted +Chinese quarter. Curiously enough, it is located in the central part +of the business portion of San Francisco. Set a stranger down in this +portion of the city, and the traveler finds it easy to imagine himself +in some Chinese city. All around him, thronging the sidewalks, he will +see almond-eyed men, wearing long queues, and clad in the comfortable, +but certainly not elegant, flowing garments which we meet only +occasionally in our Eastern cities, on the person of some laundryman. +Then the houses, too, with the curious names on the signs, speak of a +far-off land. On every side, also, is heard the uncouth jargon of the +Chinese tongue. + +There is a part of San Francisco that is known as the Barbary Coast. It +is that part which strangers will do well to avoid, for it is the haunt +of the worst portion of the population. Here floats many a hopeless +wreck, in the shape of a young man, who has yielded to the seductions of +drink and the gaming table--who has lost all hope and ambition, and is +fast nearing destruction. + +If Hector allowed himself to explore this quarter, it was not because +he found anything to attract him, for his tastes were healthy, but he +thought, from the description of Gregory Newman, that he would stand a +better chance of meeting him here than in a more respectable quarter. + +Hector halted in front of a building, which he judged to be a gambling +house. He did not care to enter, but he watched, with curiosity, those +who entered and those who came out. + +As he was standing there, a man of forty touched him on the shoulder. + +Hector turned, and was by no means attracted by the man’s countenance. +He was evidently a confirmed inebriate, though not at that time under +the influence of liquor. There was an expression of cunning, which +repelled Hector, and he drew back. + +“I say, boy,” said the stranger, “do you want to go in?” + +“No, sir.” + +“If you do, I know the ropes, and I’ll introduce you and take care of +you.” + +“Thank you,” said Hector, “but I don’t care to go in.” + +“Are you afraid?” asked the man, with a slight sneer. + +“Yes. Haven’t I a reason?” + +“Come, sonny, don’t be foolish. Have you any money?” + +“A little.” + +“Give it to me and I’ll play for you. I’ll double it in ten minutes, and +I’ll only ask you five dollars for my services.” + +“Suppose you lose?” + +“I won’t lose,” said the man, confidently. “Come,” he said, in a +wheedling tone, “let me make some money for you.” + +“Thank you, but I would rather not. I don’t want to make money in any +such way.” + +“You’re a fool!” said the man, roughly, and with an air of disgust he +left the spot, much to Hector’s relief. + +Still Hector lingered, expecting he hardly knew what, but it chanced +that fortune favored him. He was just about to turn away, when a youth, +two or three years older than himself in appearance, came out of the +gambling house. He was pale, and looked as if he had kept late hours. He +had the appearance, also, of one who indulges in drink. + +When Hector’s glance fell upon the face of the youth, he started in +great excitement. + +“Surely,” he thought, “that must be Gregory Newman!” + + + + +CHAPTER XXXV. THE PRODIGAL. + + + +As the best way of getting into communication with the youth whom he +suspected to be the object of his search, Hector asked him the name of +the street. + +On receiving an answer, he said, in an explanatory way: + +“I am a stranger here. I only arrived on the last steamer.” + +The other looked interested. + +“Where do you come from?” + +“From New York.” + +“I used to live there,” said Gregory--for it was he--with a sigh. + +“Have you bettered yourself by coming out here?” asked Hector. + +Gregory shook his head. + +“No,” he said; “I begin to think I was a fool to come at all.” + +“Perhaps you had poor prospects in New York?” said Hector. + +“No; my uncle is a rich merchant there. I have some property, also, and +he is my guardian.” + +“Did he favor your coming?” + +“No; he was very much opposed to it.” + +“Perhaps I ought not to take such a liberty, but I begin to agree with +you about your being a fool to leave such prospects behind you.” + +“Oh, I am not offended. It is true enough.” + +“I suppose you haven’t prospered, then,” said Hector. + +“Prospered? Look at me! Do you see how shabby I am?” + +Gregory certainly did look shabby. His clothes were soiled and frayed, +and he had the appearance of a young tramp. + +“That isn’t the worst of it,” he added, bitterly. “I have spent my last +cent, and am penniless.” + +“That is bad, certainly. Did you lose any of it in there?” said Hector, +indicating the gaming house. + +“I have lost full half of it there,” answered Gregory. “This morning I +found myself reduced to four bits--” + +“To what?” inquired Hector, puzzled. + +“Oh, I forgot you had just arrived. Four bits is fifty cents. Well, I +was reduced to that, and, instead of saving it for my dinner, I went in +there and risked it. If I had been lucky, I might have raised it to ten +dollars, as a man next to me did; but I’m out of luck, and I don’t know +what to do.” + +“Why don’t you go back to your uncle in New York?” + +“What! and walk all the way without food?” said Gregory, bitterly. + +“Of course you couldn’t go without money. Suppose you had the money, +would you go?” + +“I should be afraid to try it,” said Gregory, smiling. + +“Why? Don’t you think he would receive you back?” + +“He might but for one thing,” answered Gregory. + +“What is that?” + +“I may as well tell you, though I am ashamed to,” said Gregory, +reluctantly. “I left New York without his knowledge, and, as I knew he +wouldn’t advance me money out of my own property, I took five hundred +dollars from his desk.” + +“That was bad,” said Hector, quietly, but he didn’t look shocked or +terror-stricken, for this would probably have prevented any further +confidence. + +“It wasn’t exactly stealing,” said Gregory, apologetically, “for I knew +he could keep back the money from my property. Still, he could represent +it as such and have me arrested.” + +“I don’t think he would do that.” + +“I don’t want to run the risk. You see now why I don’t dare to go back +to New York. But what on earth I am to do here I don’t know.” + +“Couldn’t you get employment?” asked Hector, for he wished Gregory to +understand his position fully. + +“What! in this shabby suit? Respectable business men would take me for a +hoodlum.” + +Hector knew already that a “hoodlum” in San Francisco parlance is a term +applied to street loafers from fifteen to twenty-five years of age, who +are disinclined to work and have a premature experience of vice. + +“Suppose you were assured that your uncle would receive you back and +give you another chance?” + +Gregory shook his head. + +“I don’t believe he would, and I am afraid I don’t deserve it. No, +I must try to get to the mines in some way. How are you fixed?” said +Gregory, turning suddenly to Hector. “Could you spare a five-dollar gold +piece for a chap that’s been unfortunate?” + +“Perhaps I might; but I am afraid you would go back into the gambling +house and lose it, as you did your other money.” + +“No, I won’t; I promise you that. Four bits was nothing. Five dollars +would give me a chance of going somewhere where I could earn a living.” + +Gregory seemed to speak sincerely, and Hector thought it would do him no +harm to reveal himself and his errand. + +“Your name is Gregory Newman, isn’t it?” he inquired. + +Gregory stared at him in uncontrollable amazement. + +“How do you know that?” he inquired. + +“And your uncle’s name is Titus Newman?” + +“Yes, but--” + +“He lives on Madison Avenue, does he not?” + +“Yes, yes; but who are you that seem to know so much about me?” + +“My name is Hector Roscoe.” + +“Did I know you in New York?” + +“No; I never met you, to my knowledge.” + +“Then how do you recognize me and know my name?” + +In answer, Hector took from his pocket a photograph of Gregory and +displayed it. + +“How did you come by that?” asked Gregory, hurriedly. “Are you a +detective?” + +Gregory looked so startled that Hector had hard work not to laugh. It +seemed ludicrous to him that he should be supposed to be a detective on +Gregory’s track, as the boy evidently suspected. + +“No,” he answered, “I am not a detective, but a friend. I have come out +to San Francisco especially to find you.” + +“You won’t inform against me?” asked Gregory, nervously. + +“Not at all. I come as a friend, with a message from your uncle---” + +“What is it?” asked Gregory, eagerly. + +“He wants you to come back to New York, and he will give you another +chance.” + +“Is this true?” + +“Yes; will you come?” + +“I shall be glad to leave San Francisco,” said Gregory, fervently. “I +have had no luck since I arrived here.” + +“Do you think you deserved any?” said Hector, significantly. + +“No, perhaps not,” Gregory admitted. + +“When will you be ready to return?” + +“You forget that I have no money.” + +“I have, and will pay your passage.” + +Gregory grasped the hands of our hero gratefully. + +“You are a trump!” said he. + +Then he looked at his wretched and dilapidated suit. + +“I don’t like to go home like this,” he said. “I should be mortified if +I met my uncle or any of my old acquaintances.” + +“Oh, that can be remedied,” said Hector. “If you can lead the way to a +good clothing house, where the prices are moderate, I will soon improve +your appearance.” + +“That I will!” answered Gregory, gladly. + +Within five minutes’ walk was a good clothing house, on Kearney Street. +The two entered, and a suit was soon found to fit Gregory. Then they +obtained a supply of underclothing, and Gregory breathed a sigh of +satisfaction. His self-respect returned, and he felt once more like his +old self. + +“Now,” said Hector, “I shall take you to my hotel, and enter your name +as a guest. You and I can room together.” + +“Do you know,” said Gregory, “I almost fear this is a dream, and that +I shall wake up again a tramp, as you found me half an hour ago? I was +almost in despair when you met me.” + +Though Gregory seemed quite in earnest in his desire to turn over a new +leaf, Hector thought it prudent to keep the funds necessary for their +journey in his own possession. He gave a few dollars to Gregory as +spending money, but disregarded any hints looking to a further advance. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI. HOW HECTOR SUCCEEDED IN SACRAMENTO. + + + +Now that Hector had succeeded in the main object of his journey, he had +time to think of his own affairs. It was most important for him to visit +Sacramento and make inquiries into the matter that so nearly concerned +him. + +“I must find out,” he said to himself, “whether I am entitled to the +name I bear, or whether I only received it by adoption.” + +The second day after his discovery of Gregory Newman, he said to him: + +“Gregory, business of importance calls me to Sacramento. Do you wish to +go with me?” + +“Does the business in any way relate to me?” asked Gregory. + +“Not at all.” + +“Then I prefer to remain in San Francisco.” + +“Can I trust you not to fall back into your old ways?” asked Hector. + +“Yes; I have had enough of them,” answered Gregory, and there was a +sincerity in his tone which convinced Hector that he might safely leave +him. + +“I shall probably stay overnight,” he said. “If I stay any longer, I +will telegraph to you.” + +Arrived in Sacramento, Hector sought out the residence of the Rev. Mr. +Richards, whose acquaintance he had made on board the steamer. + +His clerical friend received him with evident pleasure. + +“How have you fared, my young friend?” he asked. + +“Very well, sir. I have succeeded in my mission.” + +“Then you have found the youth you were in search of?” + +“Yes, sir; moreover, I have induced him to return home with me, and turn +over a new leaf.” + +“That is indeed good news. And now, I think I have also good news for +you.” + +“Please let me know it, sir,” said Hector, eagerly. + +“I have found the lady with whom your father and mother boarded while +they were in Sacramento.” + +“What does she say?” + +“She says,” answered Mr. Richards, promptly, “that you are Mr. Roscoe’s +own son, and were born in her house.” + +“Thank Heaven!” ejaculated Hector. + +“Nor is this all. I have found the minister who baptized you. He is +still living, at a very advanced age--the Rev. Mr. Barnard. I called +upon him, and recalled his attention to the period when your father +lived in the city. I found that he remembered both your parents very +well. Not only that, but he has a very full diary covering that time, in +which he showed me this record: + +“‘Baptized, June 17th, Hector, the son of Thomas and Martha Roscoe; a +bright, healthy child, in whom the parents much delight.” + +“Then it seems to me,” said Hector, “that my case is a very strong one.” + +“Unusually so. In fact, it could not be stronger. I marvel how Allan +Roscoe, your uncle, could have ventured upon a fraud which could be so +easily proved to be such.” + +“He depended upon Sacramento being so far away,” said Hector. “He +thought I would accept my father’s letter without question.” + +“That letter was undoubtedly forged,” said the minister. + +“It must have been, but it was very cleverly forged. The handwriting +was a very close copy of my father’s.” It was a great pleasure to Hector +that he could say “my father” without a moment’s doubt that he was +entitled to say so. + +“He thought, also, that you would not have the means to come here to +investigate for yourself,” said Mr. Richards. + +“Yes, and he would have been right but for the commission Mr. Newman +gave me. What course would you advise me to take,” asked Hector, a +little later, “to substantiate my claim?” + +“Get Mrs. Blodgett’s and Rev. Mr. Barnard’s sworn affidavits, and place +them in the hands of a reliable lawyer, requesting him to communicate +with your uncle.” + +This advice seemed to Hector to be wise, and he followed it. +Fortunately, he had no difficulty in inducing both parties to accede to +his request. The next day he returned to San Francisco. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVII. A NARROW ESCAPE. + + + +Armed with the affidavits which were to restore to him the position in +life of which his uncle had wickedly deprived him, Hector returned to +San Francisco. He found Gregory unaffectedly glad to see him. + +“Glad to see you back, Hector,” he said; “I missed you.” + +Hector was glad to find that Gregory had not taken advantage of his +absence to indulge in any of his old excesses. He began to hope that he +had already turned over the new leaf which was so desirable. + +“I know what you are thinking of,” said Gregory, after Hector had +returned his salutation. “You are wondering whether I ‘cut up’ any while +you were gone.” + +“You don’t look as if you had,” said Hector, smiling. + +“No; I have had enough of sowing wild oats. It doesn’t pay. Shall I tell +you what I did last evening?” + +“If you like.” + +“I attended a lecture illustrated with the stereopticon. I was in bed at +ten.” + +“Gregory,” said Hector, taking his hand, “you don’t know how glad I am +to hear this. I am sure your uncle will be delighted when you return to +him so changed.” + +“I’ve made a great fool of myself,” said Gregory, candidly. “Hereafter I +am going to make you my model.” + +Hector blushed deeply, for he was a modest boy. + +“You compliment me too much, Gregory,” he said. “Still, if you are in +earnest, I will try to set you a good example.” + +“You won’t have any trouble in doing that. You are one of the fellows +that find it easy to be good.” + +“I am not sure of that, Gregory. Still, I mean to do my best.” + +In the evening the two boys attended a theatrical performance. It was +not till after eleven o’clock that they emerged from the theatre, and +slowly, not by the most direct way, sauntered home. + +There was no thought of danger in the mind of either, yet, as a fact, +Hector had never in his life been exposed to peril so serious as that +evening. Lurking behind in the shadow a shabby-looking man followed +the two boys, keeping his eyes steadily on Hector. At a place specially +favorable, our hero was startled by hearing a bullet whiz by his ear. He +turned instantly, and so did Gregory. They saw a man running, and +they pursued him. They might not have caught up with him, but that he +stumbled and fell. Instantly they were upon him. + +“Well,” he said, sullenly, “you’ve caught me after all.” + +“Were you the man who fired at me?” asked Hector, “or was it my friend +here you sought to kill?” + +“I was firing at you,” answered their captive, coolly. “Now, what are +you going to do with me?” + +“Was this forced upon you by want? Did you wish to rob me?” + +“No; I had another motive.” + +“What was it?” + +“If I tell you, will you let me go free?” + +Hector hesitated. + +The man proceeded, speaking with emphasis. + +“If I tell you who put me up to this, and furnish you proofs so that you +can bring it to him, will you let me go?” + +“You will not renew the attempt?” asked Hector. + +“No,” answered the man; “it isn’t likely; I shall have no further +motive.” + +“Yes, I agree.” + +“Read that letter, then.” + +“There isn’t light enough. Will you accompany me to the hotel, where I +can read it?” + +“I will.” + +The three walked together to the hotel, where Hector and Gregory were +staying. There Hector read the letter. He was astonished and horrified +when he discovered that it was from his uncle to this man, with whom he +seemed to have an acquaintance, describing Hector, and promising him a +thousand dollars if he would put him out of the way. + +“This is very important,” said Hector, gravely. “Are you ready to +accompany me to New York and swear to this?” + +“Yes, if you will pay my expenses.” + +By the next steamer Hector, Gregory and the stranger, who called himself +Reuben Pearce, sailed for New York. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVIII. CONCLUSION. + + + +Allan Roscoe sat at the breakfast table with Guy opposite him. Though +Mr. Roscoe was not altogether free from anxiety since he had learned of +Hector’s expedition to California, he had taught himself to believe that +there was little chance of the boy’s ferreting out the imposition he had +practiced upon him. He had been a poor and struggling man most of his +life, having, when quite a young man, squandered his inheritance, and +his present taste of affluence was most agreeable. He felt that he could +not part with Castle Roscoe. + +“But I am safe enough,” he said to himself; “even if Hector discovered +anything, something might happen to him, so that he might be unable to +return.” + +“Father,” said Guy, who had just dispatched an egg, “I want ten dollars +this morning.” + +“Ten dollars!” said his father, frowning. “How is this? Did I not give +you your week’s allowance two days since?” + +“Well, I’ve spent it,” answered Guy, “and I need some more.” + +“You must think I am made of money,” said his father, displeased. + +“It’s pretty much so,” said Guy, nonchalantly. “Your income must be ten +thousand a year.” + +“I have a great many expenses. How have you spent your allowance?” + +“Oh, I can’t tell exactly. It’s gone, at any rate. You mustn’t become +mean, father.” + +“Mean! Don’t I give you a handsome allowance? Look here, Guy, I can’t +allow such extravagance on your part. This once I’ll give you five +dollars, but hereafter, you must keep within your allowance.” + +“Can’t you make it ten?” + +“No, I can’t,” said his father, shortly. + +Guy rose from the table, and left the room, whistling. + +“The old man’s getting mean,” he said. “If he doesn’t allow me more, I +shall have to get in debt.” + +As Guy left the room, the mail was brought in. On one of the envelopes, +Mr. Roscoe saw the name of his lawyer. He did not think much of it, +supposing it related to some minor matter of business. The letter ran +thus: + +“ALLAN ROSCOE, ESQ.: + +“DEAR SIR: Be kind enough to come up to the city at once. Business of +great importance demands your attention. + +“Yours respectfully, TIMOTHY TAPE.” + +“Mr. Tape is unusually mysterious,” said Allan Roscoe to himself, +shrugging his shoulders. “I will go up to-day. I have nothing to keep me +at home.” + +Mr. Roscoe ordered the carriage, and drove to the depot. Guy, noticing +his departure, asked permission to accompany him. + +“Not to-day, Guy,” he answered. “I am merely going up to see my lawyer.” + +Two hours later Mr. Roscoe entered the office of his lawyer. + +“Well, Tape, what’s up?” he asked, in an easy tone. “Your letter was +mysterious.” + +“I didn’t like to write explicitly,” said Mr. Tape, gravely. + +“The matter, you say, is of great importance?” + +“It is, indeed! It is no less than a claim for the whole of your late +brother’s estate.” + +“Who is the claimant?” asked Allan Roscoe, perturbed. + +“Your nephew, Hector.” + +“I have no nephew Hector. The boy called Hector Roscoe is an adopted son +of my brother.” + +“I know you so stated. He says he is prepared to prove that he is the +lawful son of the late Mr. Roscoe.” + +“He can’t prove it!” said Allan Roscoe, turning pale. + +“He has brought positive proof from California, so he says.” + +“Has he, then, returned?” asked Allan, his heart sinking. + +“He is in the city, and expects us to meet him at two o’clock this +afternoon, at the office of his lawyer, Mr. Parchment.” + +Now, Mr. Parchment was one of the most celebrated lawyers at the New +York bar, and the fact that Hector had secured his services showed Allan +Roscoe that the matter was indeed serious. + +“How could he afford to retain so eminent a lawyer?” asked Allan Roscoe, +nervously. + +“Titus Newman, the millionaire merchant, backs him.” + +“Do you think there is anything in his case?” asked Allan, slowly. + +“I can tell better after our interview at two o’clock.” + +At five minutes to two Allan Roscoe and Mr. Tape were ushered into the +private office of Mr. Parchment. + +“Glad to see you, gentlemen,” said the great lawyer, with his usual +courtesy. + +Two minutes later Hector entered, accompanied by Mr. Newman. Hector +nodded coldly to his uncle. He was not of a vindictive nature, but he +could not forget that this man, his own near relative, had not only +deprived him of his property, but conspired against his life. + +“Hector,” said Allan Roscoe, assuming a confidence he did not feel, “I +am amazed at your preposterous claim upon the property my brother left +to me. This is a poor return for his kindness to one who had no claim +upon him.” + +“Mr. Parchment will speak for me,” said Hector, briefly. + +“My young client,” said the great lawyer, “claims to be the son of the +deceased Mr. Roscoe, and, of course, in that capacity, succeeds to his +father’s estate.” + +“It is one thing to make the claim, and another to substantiate it,” + sneered Allan Roscoe. + +“Precisely so, Mr. Roscoe,” said Mr. Parchment. “We quite agree with +you. Shall I tell you and your learned counsel what we are prepared to +prove?” + +Mr. Roscoe nodded uneasily. + +“We have the affidavits of the lady with whom your brother boarded +in Sacramento, and in whose house my young client was born. We have, +furthermore, the sworn testimony of the clergyman, still living, who +baptized him, and we can show, though it is needless, in the face of +such strong proof, that he was always spoken of in his infancy by Mr. +and Mrs. Roscoe as their child.” + +“And I have my brother’s letter stating that he was only adopted,” + asserted Allan Roscoe. + +“Even that, admitting it to be genuine,” said Mr. Parchment, “cannot +disprove the evidence I have already alluded to. If you insist upon it, +however, we will submit the letter to an expert, and--” + +“This is a conspiracy. I won’t give up the estate,” said Allan, +passionately. + +“We also claim that there is a conspiracy,” said Mr. Parchment, +smoothly, “and there is one circumstance that will go far to confirm +it.” + +“What is that?” demanded Allan Roscoe. + +“It is the attempt made upon my young client’s life in San Francisco by +an agent of yours, Mr. Roscoe.” + +“It is a lie!” said Allan, hoarsely, shaking, nevertheless, with fear. + +At a sign from Mr. Parchment, Hector opened the door of the office to +give admission to Reuben Pearce. + +At a sight of this man Allan Roscoe utterly collapsed. He felt that all +was lost! + +“Gentlemen,” he said, “I will give up the estate, but for Heaven’s sake, +don’t prosecute me for this!” + +There was an informal conference, in which it was agreed that Allan +Roscoe should make no resistance to Hector’s claim, but restore the +estate to him. Hector promised, though this was against his lawyer’s +advice, to give his uncle, who would be left penniless, the sum of two +thousand dollars in cash, and an allowance of a hundred dollars per +month for his life. He appointed Mr. Newman his guardian, being a minor, +and was once more a boy of fortune. He resolved to continue his studies, +and in due time go to college, thus preparing himself for the high +position he would hereafter hold. + +As for Allan Roscoe, he and his son, Guy, lost no time in leaving the +neighborhood. Guy was intensely mortified at this turn of the wheel, +which had again brought his cousin uppermost, and was quite ready to +accompany his father to Chicago, where they are living at present. But +he had formed extravagant tastes, and has been a source of trouble and +solicitude to his father, who, indeed, hardly deserves the comfort of a +good son. + +Hector lost no time, after being restored to his old position, in +re-engaging Larry Deane’s father, who had been discharged by his uncle. + +He paid him his usual wages for all the time he had been out of place, +and considerably raised his pay for the future. + +“Larry shall never want a friend as long as I live,” he assured Mr. +Deane. “He was a friend to me when I needed one, and I will take care +to give him a good start in life.” He redeemed this promise by securing +Larry a place in Mr. Newman’s employ, and voluntarily allowed him as +large a weekly sum as the merchant paid him in addition, so that Larry +could live comfortably in the city. I am glad to say that Larry has +shown himself deserving of this kindness, and has already been promoted +to an important and better paid position. + +A word about Smith Institute. It never recovered from the blow that it +had received at the time when Hector found himself forced to leave it. +One after another the pupils left, and Mr. Smith felt that his race as +a schoolmaster was run. He advertised the institute for sale, and who do +you think bought it? Who but Hector Roscoe, who probably paid more for +it than anyone else would. + +My readers will hardly suppose that he wanted it for himself. In a +cordial letter he presented it to Mr. Crabb, the late usher, when he had +finished his engagement with Walter Boss, and the name was changed to +“Crabb Institute.” It was not long before it regained its old patronage, +for Mr. Crabb was not only a good scholar, but was fair and just to +the pupils, ruling them rather by love than fear. He has married the +daughter of a neighboring clergyman, who is a judicious helper and +contributes to the success of the school. + +As for Jim Smith, the last heard of him was to this effect: He had +strayed out to St. Louis, and, after a few months of vicissitude, had +secured the position of bartender in a low liquor saloon. He has very +little chance of rising higher. The young tyrant of Smith Institute has +not done very well for himself, but he has himself to blame for it. + +To return to Hector. I think we are justified in predicting for him a +prosperous future. He behaved well in adversity. He is not likely to be +spoiled by prosperity, but promises to grow up a good and manly man, who +will seek to do good as he goes along, and so vindicate his claim to the +exceptional good fortune which he enjoys. + +THE END. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Hector’s Inheritance, by Horatio Alger + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HECTOR’S INHERITANCE *** + +***** This file should be named 5674-0.txt or 5674-0.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/5/6/7/5674/ + +Produced by Carrie Fellman + +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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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: Hector's Inheritance + or The Boys of Smith Institute + +Author: Horatio Alger + +Release Date: April 2, 2009 [EBook #5674] +Last Updated: September 18, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HECTOR'S INHERITANCE *** + + + + +Produced by Carrie Fellman, and David Widger + + + + + + +</pre> + + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + HECTOR’S INHERITANCE <br /> OR<br /> +THE BOYS OF SMITH INSTITUTE + </h1> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Horatio Alger, Jr. + </h2> + <blockquote> + <p> + Author of “Eric Train Boy” “Young Acrobat,” “Only an Irish Boy,” “Bound + to Rise,” “The Young Outlaw,” “Driven from Home” etc. + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h4> + NEW YORK + </h4> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p class="toc"> + <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> + </p> + <p> + <br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> <b>HECTOR’S INHERITANCE.</b> </a><br /><br /> + <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I. </a> MR. ROSCOE RECEIVES + TWO LETTERS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II. </a> RESENTING + AN INSULT <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III. </a> HECTOR + LEARNS A SECRET <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV. </a> A + SKIRMISH <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V. </a> PREPARING + TO LEAVE HOME <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI. </a> SMITH + INSTITUTE <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII. </a> THE + TYRANT OF THE PLAYGROUND <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER + XIII. </a> IN THE SCHOOLROOM <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX. </a> THE CLASS IN VIRGIL + <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X. </a> DINNER AT + SMITH INSTITUTE <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI. </a> HECTOR + RECEIVES A SUMMONS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII. </a> THE + IMPENDING CONFLICT <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII. + </a> WHO SHALL BE VICTOR? <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0014"> + CHAPTER XIV. </a> SOCRATES CALLS HECTOR TO ACCOUNT <br /><br /> + <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV. </a> THE USHER CONFIDES + IN HECTOR <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI. </a> TOSSED + IN A BLANKET <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII. </a> JIM + SMITH’S REVENGE <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XVIII. </a> THE + MISSING WALLET IS FOUND <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XIX. + </a> A DRAMATIC SCENE <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0020"> + CHAPTER XX. </a> HECTOR GAINS A VICTORY <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER XXI. </a> THE USHER IS + DISCHARGED <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER XXII. </a> THE + WELCOME LETTER <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0023"> CHAPTER XXIII. </a> ANOTHER + CHANCE FOR THE USHER <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0024"> CHAPTER XXIV. + </a> THE YOUNG DETECTIVES <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0025"> + CHAPTER XXV. </a> SMITH INSTITUTE GROWS UNPOPULAR <br /><br /> + <a href="#link2HCH0026"> CHAPTER XXVI. </a> HECTOR’S ARRIVAL + IN NEW YORK <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0027"> CHAPTER XXVII. </a> LARRY + DEANE <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0028"> CHAPTER XXVIII. </a> TWO + MORE ACQUAINTANCES <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0029"> CHAPTER XXIX. + </a> JIM SMITH EFFECTS A LOAN <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0030"> CHAPTER XXX. </a> A BRAVE DEED <br /><br /> + <a href="#link2HCH0031"> CHAPTER XXXI. </a> AN IMPORTANT + LETTER <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0032"> CHAPTER XXXII. </a> A + WAYWARD YOUTH <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0033"> CHAPTER XXXIII. </a> MR. + ROSCOE MAKES A DISCOVERY <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0034"> CHAPTER + XXXIV. </a> FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF SAN FRANCISCO <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0035"> CHAPTER XXXV. </a> THE PRODIGAL <br /><br /> + <a href="#link2HCH0036"> CHAPTER XXXVI. </a> HOW HECTOR + SUCCEEDED IN SACRAMENTO <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0037"> CHAPTER + XXXVII. </a> A NARROW ESCAPE <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0038"> CHAPTER XXXVIII. </a> CONCLUSION + <br /><br /> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h1> + HECTOR’S INHERITANCE. + </h1> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + CHAPTER I. MR. ROSCOE RECEIVES TWO LETTERS. + </h2> + <p> + Mr. Roscoe rang the bell, and, in answer, a servant entered the library, + where he sat before a large and commodious desk. + </p> + <p> + “Has the mail yet arrived?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir; John has just come back from the village.” + </p> + <p> + “Go at once and bring me the letters and papers, if there are any.” + </p> + <p> + John bowed and withdrew. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Roscoe walked to the window, and looked thoughtfully out upon a + smooth, luxuriant lawn and an avenue of magnificent trees, through which + carriages were driven to what was popularly known as Castle Roscoe. + Everything, even to the luxuriously appointed room in which he sat, + indicated wealth and the ease which comes from affluence. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Roscoe looked around him with exultation. + </p> + <p> + “And all this may be mine,” he said to himself, “if I am only bold. What + is it old Pindar says? ‘Boldness is the beginning of victory.’ I have + forgotten nearly all I learned in school, but I remember that. There is + some risk, perhaps, but not much, and I owe something to my son—” + </p> + <p> + He was interrupted by the entrance of the servant with a small leather + bag, which was used to hold mail matter, going from or coming to the + house. + </p> + <p> + The servant unlocked the bag, and emptied the contents on the desk. There + were three or four papers and two letters. It was the last which attracted + Mr. Roscoe’s attention. + </p> + <p> + We will take the liberty of looking over Mr. Roscoe’s shoulder as he reads + the first. It ran as follows: + </p> + <p> + “DEAR SIR:-I am in receipt of your favor, asking my terms for boarding + pupils. For pupils of fifteen or over, I charge five hundred dollars per + year, which is not a large sum considering the exceptional advantages + presented by Inglewood School. My pupils are from the best families, and + enjoy a liberal table. Moreover, I employ competent teachers, and + guarantee rapid progress, when the student is of good, natural capacity, + and willing to work. + </p> + <p> + “I think you will agree with me that it is unwise to economize when the + proper training of a youth is in question, and that a cheap school is + little better than no school at all. + </p> + <p> + “I have only to add that I shall be most happy to receive your young + nephew, if you decide to send him to me, and will take personal pains to + promote his advancement. I remain, dear sir, your obedient servant, + </p> + <p> + “DIONYSIUS KADIX.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Roscoe threw the letter down upon the desk with an impatient gesture. + </p> + <p> + “Five hundred dollars a year!” he exclaimed. “What can the man be thinking + of? Why, when I went to school, twenty-five years since, less than half + this sum was charged. The man is evidently rapacious. Let me see what this + other letter says.” + </p> + <p> + The second letter was contained in a yellow envelope, of cheap texture, + and was much more plebeian in appearance than the first. + </p> + <p> + Again we will look over Mr. Roscoe’s shoulder, and read what it contains. + It was postmarked Smithville, and the envelope was disfigured by a blot. + It commenced: + </p> + <p> + “DEAR SIR:-It gives me pleasure to answer your inquiries respecting my + school. I have about fifty pupils, part of whom, say one-third, are + boarders. Though I say it myself, it will be hard to find any school where + more thorough instruction is given. I look upon my pupils as my children, + and treat them as such. My system of government is, therefore, kind and + parental, and my pupils are often homesick in vacation, longing for the + time to come when they can return to their studies at Smith Institute. It + is the dearest wish of Mrs. Smith and myself to make our young charges + happy, and to advance them, by pleasant roads over flowery meads, to the + inner courts of knowledge. + </p> + <p> + “Humbug!” muttered Mr. Roscoe. “I understand what all that means.” He + continued: + </p> + <p> + “I hope you will not consider three hundred dollars per annum too much for + such parental care. Considering the present high price of provisions, it + is really as low a price as we can afford to receive. + </p> + <p> + “I shall be glad if you consider my letter favorable and decide to place + your nephew under my charge. Yours respectfully, + </p> + <p> + “SOCRATES SMITH, A. M.” + </p> + <p> + “That is more reasonable,” said Mr. Roscoe, to himself, as he laid down + the letter. “Three hundred dollars I consider a fair price. At any rate, I + do not propose to pay any more for Hector. I suppose the table is plain + enough, but I don’t believe in pampering the appetites of boys. If he were + the master of Roscoe Hall, as he thinks he is, there might be some + propriety in it; but upon that head I shall soon undeceive him. I will let + him understand that I am the proprietor of the estate, and that he is only + a dependent on my bounty. I wonder how he will take it. I dare say he will + make a fuss, but he shall soon be made to understand that it is of no use. + Now to answer these letters.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Roscoe sat down in a luxurious armchair, and, drawing pen and paper + toward him, wrote first to Dr. Radix. I subjoin the letter, as it throws + some light upon the character of the writer: + </p> + <p> + “ROSCOE HALL, Sept. 10th. DR. DIONYSIUS RADIX. + </p> + <p> + “My DEAR SIR:-I am in receipt of your letter of the 8th instant, answering + my inquiries in regard to your school. Let me say at once that I find your + terms too high. Five hundred dollars a year for forty weeks’ board and + schooling seems to me an exorbitant price to ask. Really, at this rate, + education will soon become a luxury open only to the wealthy. + </p> + <p> + “You are probably under a misapprehension in reference to my young ward. + Nephew he is not, in a strict sense of the term. He was adopted—not + legally, but practically—by my brother, when he was only a year old, + and his origin has been concealed from him. My brother, being childless, + has allowed him to suppose that he was his own son. Undoubtedly he meant + to provide for him in his will, but, as often happens, put off will-making + till it was too late. The estate, therefore, goes to me, and the boy is + unprovided for. This does not so much matter, since I am willing to + educate him, and give him a fair start in life, if he acts in a manner to + suit me. I do not, however, feel called upon to pay an exorbitant price + for his tuition, and, therefore, shall be obliged to forego placing him at + Inglewood School. Yours, etc., + </p> + <p> + “ALLAN ROSCOE.” + </p> + <p> + “When this letter is sent, I shall have taken the decisive step,” thought + Mr. Roscoe. “I must then adhere to my story, at whatever cost. Now for the + other.” + </p> + <p> + His reply to the letter of Socrates Smith, A. M., was briefer, but likely + to be more satisfactory to the recipient. It ran thus; + </p> + <p> + “SOCRATES SMITH, A. M. + </p> + <p> + “DEAR Sir:-Your letter is at hand, and I find it, on the whole, + satisfactory. The price you charge-three hundred dollars per annum—is + about right. I hope you are a firm disciplinarian. I do not want Hector + too much indulged or pampered, though he may expect it, my poor brother + having been indulgent to excess. + </p> + <p> + “Let me add, by the bye, that Hector is not my nephew, though I may + inadvertently have mentioned him as such, and had no real claims upon my + brother, though he has been brought up in that belief. He was adopted, in + an informal way, by my brother, when he was but, an infant. Under the + circumstances, I am willing to take care of him, and prepare him to earn + his own living when his education is completed. + </p> + <p> + “You may expect to see me early next week. I will bring the boy with me, + and enter him at once as a pupil in your school. + </p> + <p> + “Yours, etc., ALLAN ROSCOE.” + </p> + <p> + “There, that clinches it!” said Mr. Roscoe, in a tone of satisfaction. + “Now for an interview with the boy.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II. RESENTING AN INSULT. + </h2> + <p> + A stone’s throw from the mansion was a neat and spacious carriage house. + The late master of Castle Roscoe had been fond of driving, and kept three + horses and two carriages. One of the latter was an old-fashioned coach; + while there was, besides, a light buggy, which Hector was accustomed to + consider his own. It was he, generally, who used this, for his father + preferred to take a driver, and generally took an airing, either alone or + with Hector, in the more stately carriage, drawn by two horses. + </p> + <p> + Hector walked across the lawn and entered the carriage house, where + Edward, the coachman, was washing the carriage. As the former is to be our + hero, we may pause to describe him. + </p> + <p> + He was fifteen, slenderly but strongly made, with a clear skin and dark + eyes and a straightforward look. He had a winning smile, that attracted + all who saw it, but his face could assume a different expression if need + be. There were strong lines about his mouth that indicated calm resolution + and strength of purpose. He was not a boy who would permit himself to be + imposed upon, but was properly tenacious of his rights. + </p> + <p> + As he entered the carriage house, he looked about him in some surprise. + </p> + <p> + “Where is the buggy, Edward?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Master Guy is driving out in it.” + </p> + <p> + “How is that?” said Hector. “Doesn’t he know that it is mine? He might, at + least, have asked whether I intended to use it.” + </p> + <p> + “That is what I told him.” + </p> + <p> + “And what did he say?” + </p> + <p> + “That it was just as much his as yours, and perhaps more so.” + </p> + <p> + “What could he mean?” + </p> + <p> + “He said his father had promised to give it to him.” + </p> + <p> + “Promised to give him my buggy!” exclaimed Hector, his eyes flashing. + </p> + <p> + “It’s a shame, Master Hector, so it is,” said Edward, sympathetically. He + had known Hector since he was a boy of five, and liked him far better than + Guy, who was a newcomer, and a boy disposed to domineer over those whom he + considered his inferiors. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t intend to submit to it,” said Hector, trying, ineffectually, to + curb his anger. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t blame you, Master Hector, but I’m afraid you will have a hard + time. As your uncle is your guardian, of course he has power over you, and + he thinks everything of that boy of his, though, to my mind, he is an + unmannerly cub.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know how much power he has over me, but he mustn’t expect me to + play second fiddle to his son. I am willing that Guy should enjoy as many + privileges as I do, though the estate is mine; but he mustn’t interfere + with my rights.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s right, Master Hector. Why don’t you speak to your uncle about it? + I would, if I were you.” + </p> + <p> + “So I will, if it is necessary. I will speak to Guy first, and that may be + sufficient. I don’t want to enter complaint against him if I can help it.” + </p> + <p> + “You didn’t see Master Guy ride out, did you?” + </p> + <p> + “‘No; I was reading. If I had seen him, I would have stopped him.” + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid it wouldn’t have done any good.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean that he would have taken the buggy in spite of me?” asked + Hector, indignantly. + </p> + <p> + “I think he would have tried. To tell the truth, Master Hector, I refused + to get the buggy ready for him, till he brought out a paper from his + father commanding me to do it. Then, of course, I had no choice.” + </p> + <p> + Hector was staggered by this. + </p> + <p> + “Have you got the paper?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” answered Edward, fumbling in his vest pocket. + </p> + <p> + He drew out a small scrap of notepaper, on which was written, “My son, + Guy, has my permission to ride out in the buggy. You will obey me rather + than Hector.” + </p> + <p> + This was signed, “Allan Roscoe.” + </p> + <p> + “So it seems my uncle is the trespasser,” said Hector. “It is he who takes + the responsibility. I will go and speak to him at once.” + </p> + <p> + “Wait a minute! There comes Master Guy, returning from his ride. You can + have it out with him first.” + </p> + <p> + In fact, Hector had only to look down the avenue to see the rapid approach + of the buggy. Guy held the reins, and was seated in the driver’s seat with + all the air of a master. The sight aggravated Hector, and not without + reason. He waited until Guy, flinging the reins to Edward, leaped from the + buggy, then he thought it time to speak. + </p> + <p> + “Guy,” he said, calmly, “it seems to me that you owe me an apology.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I do, do I?” sneered Guy. “What for, let me ask?” + </p> + <p> + “You have driven out in my buggy, without asking my permission.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it’s your buggy, is it?” said Guy, with another sneer. + </p> + <p> + “Of course it is. You know that as well as I do.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know it at all.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I inform you of it. I don’t want to be selfish; I am willing that + you should ride out in it occasionally; but I insist upon your asking my + permission.” + </p> + <p> + Guy listened to these words with a sneer upon his face. He was about the + same age and size as Hector, but his features were mean and insignificant, + and there was a shifty look in his eye that stamped him as unreliable. He + did not look like the Roscoes, though in many respects he was in + disposition and character similar to his father. + </p> + <p> + “It strikes me,” he said, with an unpleasant smile, “that you’re taking a + little too much upon yourself, Hector Roscoe. The buggy is no more yours + than mine.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you say, Edward?” said Hector, appealing to the coachman. + </p> + <p> + “I say that the buggy is yours, and the horse is yours, and so I told + Master Guy, but he wouldn’t take no notice of it.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you hear that, Guy?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I do; and that’s what I think of it,” answered Guy, snapping his + fingers. “My father gave me permission to ride out in it, and I’ve got + just as much right to it as you, and perhaps more.” + </p> + <p> + “You know better, Guy,” said Hector, indignantly; “and I warn you not to + interfere with my rights hereafter.” + </p> + <p> + “Suppose I do?” sneered Guy. + </p> + <p> + “Then I shall be under the necessity of giving you a lesson,” said Hector, + calmly. + </p> + <p> + “You will, will you? You’ll give me a lesson?” repeated Guy, nodding + vigorously. “Who are you, I’d like to know?” + </p> + <p> + “If you don’t know, I can tell you.” + </p> + <p> + “Tell me, then.” + </p> + <p> + “I am Hector Roscoe, the owner of Roscoe Hall. Whether your father is to + be my guardian or not, I don’t know; but there are limits to the power of + a guardian, and I hope he won’t go too far.” + </p> + <p> + “Hear the boy talk!” said Guy, contemptuously. + </p> + <p> + “I wish to treat my uncle with becoming respect; but he is a newcomer here—I + never saw him till three months since—and he has no right to come + here, and take from me all my privileges. We can all live at peace + together, and I hope we shall; but he must treat me well.” + </p> + <p> + “You are quite sure Roscoe Castle belongs to you, are you, Hector?” + </p> + <p> + “That’s the law. Father left no will, and so the estate comes to me.” + </p> + <p> + “Ho! ho!” laughed Guy, with malicious glee. + </p> + <p> + “If you only knew what I know, you wouldn’t crow quite so loud. It’s a + splendid joke.” + </p> + <p> + There was something in this that attracted Hector’s attention, though he + was not disposed to attach much importance to what Guy said. + </p> + <p> + “If I only knew what you know!” he repeated. + </p> + <p> + “Yes; that’s what I said.” + </p> + <p> + “What is it?” + </p> + <p> + “You’ll know it soon enough, and I can tell you one thing, it’ll surprise + you. It’ll take down your pride a peg or two.” + </p> + <p> + Hector stared at his cousin in unaffected surprise. What could Guy + possibly mean? Had his father perhaps made a will, and left the estate to + some one else—his uncle, for example? Was this the meaning of Guy’s + malicious mirth? + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know to what you refer,” he said; “but if it’s anything that is + of importance to me, I ought to know it. What is it?” + </p> + <p> + “Go and ask father,” said Guy, with a tantalizing grin. + </p> + <p> + “I will,” answered Hector, “and without delay.” + </p> + <p> + He turned to enter the house, but Guy had not exhausted his malice. He was + in a hurry to triumph over Hector, whom he disliked heartily. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t mind telling you myself,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “You are not what you suppose. You’re a lowborn beggar!” + </p> + <p> + He had no sooner uttered these words, than Hector resented the insult. + Seizing the whip from Guy, he grasped him by the collar, flung him to the + ground and lashed him with it. + </p> + <p> + “There,” said he, with eyes aflame, “take that, Guy Roscoe, and look out + how you insult me in future!” + </p> + <p> + Guy rose slowly from the ground, pale with fury, and, as he brushed the + dust from his clothes, ejaculated: + </p> + <p> + “You’ll pay dearly for this, Hector!” + </p> + <p> + “I’ll take the consequences,” said Hector, as coldly as his anger would + allow. “Now, I shall go to your father and ask the meaning of this.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III. HECTOR LEARNS A SECRET. + </h2> + <p> + Hector entered the library with some impetuosity. Usually he was quiet and + orderly, but he had been excited by the insinuations of Guy, and he was + impatient to know what he meant—if he meant anything. + </p> + <p> + Allan Roscoe looked up, and remarked, with slight sarcasm: + </p> + <p> + “This is not a bear garden, Hector. You appear to think you are on the + playground, judging by your hasty motions.” + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon, uncle,” said Hector, who never took amiss a rebuke + which he thought deserved. “I suppose I forgot myself, being excited. I + beg your pardon.” + </p> + <p> + “What is the cause of your excitement?” asked Mr. Roscoe, surveying the + boy keenly. + </p> + <p> + “Guy has said something that I don’t understand.” + </p> + <p> + “He must have said something very profound, then,” returned Allan Roscoe, + with light raillery. + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, Uncle Allan, it is no laughing matter,” said Hector, earnestly. + </p> + <p> + “Then let me hear what it is.” + </p> + <p> + “He intimates that he knows something that would let down my pride a peg + or two. He hints that I am not the heir of Castle Roscoe.” + </p> + <p> + The boy used the term by which the house was usually known. + </p> + <p> + Allan Roscoe knit his brow in pretended vexation. + </p> + <p> + “Inconsiderate boy!” he murmured. “Why need he say this?” + </p> + <p> + “But,” said Hector, startled, “is it true?” + </p> + <p> + “My boy,” said his uncle, with simulated feeling, “my son has spoken to + you of a secret which I would willingly keep from you if I could. Yet, + perhaps, it is as well that you should be told now.” + </p> + <p> + “Told what?” exclaimed Hector, quite at sea. + </p> + <p> + “Can you bear to hear, Hector, that it is indeed true? You are not the + owner of this estate.” + </p> + <p> + “Who is then?” ejaculated the astonished boy. + </p> + <p> + “I am; and Guy after me.” + </p> + <p> + “What! Did my father leave the estate away from me? I thought he did not + leave a will?” + </p> + <p> + “Nor did he.” + </p> + <p> + “Then how can anyone else except his son inherit?” + </p> + <p> + “Your question is a natural one. If you were his son you would inherit + under the law.” + </p> + <p> + “If I were his son!” repeated Hector, slowly, his head swimming. “What do + you mean by that? Of course I am your brother’s son.” + </p> + <p> + “It is very painful for me to tell, Hector. It will be distressing for you + to hear. No tie of blood connects you with the late owner of Castle + Roscoe.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t believe you, Uncle Allan,” said Hector, bluntly. + </p> + <p> + “Of course, therefore, I am not your uncle,” added Allan Roscoe, dryly. + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon; I should have said Mr. Allan Roscoe,” said Hector, + bowing proudly, for his heart was sore, and he was deeply indignant with + the man who sat, smooth and sleek, in his father’s chair, harrowing up his + feelings without himself being ruffled. + </p> + <p> + “That is immaterial. Call me uncle, if you like, since the truth is + understood. But I must explain.” + </p> + <p> + “I would like to know what is your authority for so surprising a + statement, Mr. Roscoe. You cannot expect me to believe that I have been + deceived all my life.” + </p> + <p> + “I make the statement on your father’s authority—I should say, on my + brother’s authority.” + </p> + <p> + “Can you prove it, Mr. Roscoe?” + </p> + <p> + “I can. I will presently put into your hands a letter, written me by my + brother some months since, which explains the whole matter. To save you + suspense, however, I will recapitulate. Where were you born?” + </p> + <p> + “In California.” + </p> + <p> + “That is probably true. It was there that my brother found you.” + </p> + <p> + “Found me?” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps that is not the word. My brother and his wife were boarding in + Sacramento in the winter of 1859. In the same boarding house was a widow, + with a child of some months old. You were that child. Your mother died + suddenly, and it was ascertained that she left nothing. Her child was, + therefore, left destitute. It was a fine, promising boy—give me + credit for the compliment—and my brother, having no children of his + own, proposed to his wife to adopt it. She was fond of children, and + readily consented. No formalities were necessary, for there was no one to + claim you. You were at once taken in charge by my brother and his wife, + therefore, and very soon they came to look upon you with as much affection + as if you were their own child. They wished you to consider them your real + parents, and to you the secret was never made known, nor was it known to + the world. When my brother returned to this State, three years after, not + one of his friends doubted that the little Hector was his own boy. + </p> + <p> + “When you were six years old your mother died—that is, my brother’s + wife. All the more, perhaps, because he was left alone, my brother became + attached to you, and, I think, he came to love you as much as if you were + his own son.” + </p> + <p> + “I think he did,” said Hector, with emotion. “Never was there a kinder, + more indulgent father.” + </p> + <p> + “Yet he was not your father,” said Allan Roscoe, with sharp emphasis. + </p> + <p> + “So you say, Mr. Roscoe.” + </p> + <p> + “So my brother says in his letter to me.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you think it probable that, with all this affection for me, he would + have left me penniless?” asked the boy. + </p> + <p> + “No; it was his intention to make a will. By that will he would no doubt + have provided for you in a satisfactory manner. But I think my poor + brother had a superstitious fear of will making, lest it might hasten + death. At any rate, he omitted it till it was too late.” + </p> + <p> + “It was a cruel omission, if your story is a true one.” + </p> + <p> + “Your—my brother, did what he could to remedy matters. In his last + sickness, when too weak to sign his name, he asked me, as the legal heir + of his estate, to see that you were well provided for. He wished me to see + your education finished, and I promised to do so. I could see that this + promise relieved his mind. Of one thing you may be assured, Hector, he + never lost his affection for you.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank Heaven for that!” murmured the boy, who had been deeply and + devotedly attached to the man whom, all his life long, he had looked upon + as his father. + </p> + <p> + “I can only add, Hector,” said Mr. Roscoe, “that I feel for your natural + disappointment. It is, indeed, hard to be brought up to regard yourself as + the heir of a great estate, and to make the discovery that you have been + mistaken.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t mind that so much, Mr. Roscoe,” said Hector, slowly. “It is the + hardest thing to think of myself as having no claim upon one whom I have + loved as a father—to think myself as a boy of unknown parentage. + But,” he added, suddenly, “I have it only on your word. Why should I + believe it?” + </p> + <p> + “I will give you conclusive proof, Hector. Read this.” + </p> + <p> + Allan Roscoe took from his pocket a letter, without an envelope. One + glance served to show Hector that it was in the handwriting of his late + father, or, at any rate, in a handwriting surprisingly like it. + </p> + <p> + He began to read it with feverish haste. + </p> + <p> + The letter need not find a place here. The substance of it had been + accurately given by Mr. Allan Roscoe. Apparently, it corroborated his + every statement. + </p> + <p> + The boy looked up from its perusal, his face pale and stricken. + </p> + <p> + “You see that I have good authority for my statement,” said Mr. Roscoe. + </p> + <p> + “I can’t understand it,” said Hector, slowly. + </p> + <p> + “I need only add,” said Mr. Roscoe, apparently relieved by the revelation, + “that my brother did not repose confidence in me in vain. I accept, as a + sacred charge, the duty he imposed upon me. I shall provide for you and + look after your education. I wish to put you in a way to prepare yourself + for a useful and honorable career. As a first step, I intend, on Monday + next, to place you in an excellent boarding school, where you will have + exceptional privileges.” + </p> + <p> + Hector listened, but his mind was occupied by sad thoughts, and he made no + comment. + </p> + <p> + “I have even selected the school with great care,” said Mr. Roscoe. “It is + situated at Smithville, and is under the charge of Socrates Smith, A. M., + a learned and distinguished educator. You may go now. I will speak with + you on this subject later.” + </p> + <p> + Hector bowed. After what he had heard, his interest in other matters was + but faint. + </p> + <p> + “I shall be glad to get him out of the house,” thought Allan Roscoe. “I + never liked him.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV. A SKIRMISH. + </h2> + <p> + Hector walked out of the house in a state of mental bewilderment not + easily described. Was he not Hector Roscoe, after all? Had he been all his + life under a mistake? If this story were true, who was he, who were his + parents, what was his name? Why had the man whom he had supposed to be his + father not imparted to him this secret? He had always been kind and + indulgent; he had never appeared to regard the boy as an alien in blood, + but as a dearly loved son. Yet, if he had, after all, left him unprovided + for, he had certainly treated Hector with great cruelty. + </p> + <p> + “I won’t believe it,” said Hector, to himself. + </p> + <p> + “I won’t so wrong my dear father’s memory at the bidding of this man, + whose interest it is to trump up this story, since he and his son become + the owners of a great estate in my place.” + </p> + <p> + Just then Guy advanced toward Hector with a malicious smile upon his face. + He knew very well what a blow poor Hector had received, for he was in his + father’s confidence, and he was mean enough, and malicious enough, to + rejoice at it. + </p> + <p> + “What’s the matter with you, Hector?” he asked, with a grin. “You look as + if you had lost your last friend.” + </p> + <p> + Hector stopped short and regarded Guy fixedly. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know what your father has been saying to me?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I can guess,” answered Guy. “Ho! ho! It’s a great joke that you + have all the time fancied yourself the heir of Castle Roscoe, when you + have no claim to it at all. I am the heir!” he added, drawing himself up + proudly; “and you are a poor dependent, and a nobody. It’s funny!” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps you won’t think it so funny after this!” said Hector, coolly, + exasperated beyond endurance. As he spoke he drew off, and in an instant + Guy measured his length upon the greensward. + </p> + <p> + Guy rose, his face livid with passion, in a frame of mind far from funny. + He clinched his fists and looked at Hector as if he wished to annihilate + him. “You’ll pay for this,” he screamed. “You’ll repent it, bitterly, you + poor, nameless dependent, low-born, very likely—” + </p> + <p> + “Hold, there!” said Hector, advancing resolutely, and sternly facing the + angry boy. “Be careful what you say. If this story of your father’s is + true, which I don’t believe, you might have the decency to let me alone, + even if you don’t sympathize with me. If you dare to say or hint anything + against my birth, I’ll treat you worse than I have yet.” + </p> + <p> + “You’ll suffer for this!” almost shrieked Guy. + </p> + <p> + “I am ready to suffer now, if you are able to make me,” said Hector. “Come + on, and we’ll settle it now.” + </p> + <p> + But Guy had no desire for the contest to which he was invited. He had a + wholesome fear of Hector’s strong, muscular arms, aided, as they were, by + some knowledge of boxing. Hector had never taken regular lessons, but a + private tutor, whom his father had employed, a graduate of Yale, had + instructed him in the rudiments of the “manly art of self-defense,” and + Hector was very well able to take care of himself against any boy of his + own size and strength. In size, Guy was his equal, but in strength he was + quite inferior. This Guy knew full well, and, angry as he was, he by no + means lost sight of prudence. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t choose to dirty my hands with you,” he said. “I shall tell my + father, and it would serve you right if he sent you adrift.” + </p> + <p> + In Hector’s present mood, he would not, perhaps, have cared much if this + threat had been carried into execution, but he was not altogether + reckless, and he felt that it was best to remain under Mr. Roscoe’s + protection until he had had time to investigate the remarkable story which + he suspected his reputed uncle had trumped up to serve his own interests. + </p> + <p> + “Tell your father, if you like,” said Hector, quietly. “I don’t know + whether he will sustain you or not in your insults, but if he does, then I + shall have two opponents instead of one.” + </p> + <p> + “Does that mean that you will attack my father?” demanded Guy, hoping for + an affirmative answer, as it would help him to prejudice his father + against our hero. + </p> + <p> + “No,” answered Hector, smiling, “I don’t apprehend there will be any + necessity, for he won’t insult me as you have done.” + </p> + <p> + Guy lost no time in seeking his father, and laying the matter before him, + inveighing against Hector with great bitterness. + </p> + <p> + “So he knocked you down, did he, Guy?” asked Allan Roscoe, thoughtfully. + </p> + <p> + “Yes; he took me unawares, or he couldn’t have done it,” answered Guy, a + little ashamed at the avowal. + </p> + <p> + “What did you do?” + </p> + <p> + “I—I told him he should suffer for it.” + </p> + <p> + “Why did he attack you?” + </p> + <p> + “It was on account of something I said.” + </p> + <p> + “What was it?” + </p> + <p> + Guy reluctantly answered this question, and with correctness. + </p> + <p> + “It was your fault for speaking to him when he was feeling sore at making + a painful discovery.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you justify him in pitching into me like a big brute?” asked Guy, + hastily. + </p> + <p> + “No; but still, I think it, was natural, under the circumstances. You + should have kept out of his way, and let him alone.” + </p> + <p> + “Won’t you punish him for attacking me?” demanded Guy, indignantly. + </p> + <p> + “I will speak to him on the subject,” said Allan Roscoe; “and will tell + him my opinion of his act.” + </p> + <p> + “Then shan’t I be revenged upon him?” asked Guy, disappointed. + </p> + <p> + “Listen, Guy,” said his father. “Is it no punishment that the boy is + stripped of all his possessions, while you step into his place? Henceforth + he will be dependent upon me, and later, upon you. He has been hurled down + from his proud place as owner of Castle Roscoe, and I have taken his + place, as you will hereafter do.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Guy, gleefully; “it will be a proud day when I become master + of the estate.” + </p> + <p> + Allan Roscoe was not a specially sensitive man, but this remark of his son + jarred upon him. + </p> + <p> + “You seem to forget, Guy, that you do not succeed till I am dead!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I suppose so,” answered Guy, slowly. + </p> + <p> + “It almost seems as if you were in a hurry for me to die.” + </p> + <p> + “I didn’t mean that, but it’s natural to suppose that I shall live longer + than you do, isn’t it?” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose so,” returned Allan Roscoe, shortly. + </p> + <p> + “Of course that’s what I mean.” + </p> + <p> + “Then, since you are so much better off than Hector, you had better be + more considerate, and leave him to get over his disappointment as well as + he can.” + </p> + <p> + “Shall I send in Hector to see you?” asked Guy, as he at length turned to + leave the room. + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “You’re to go in to my father,” said Guy, reappearing on the lawn; “he’s + going to give it to you.” + </p> + <p> + Hector anticipated some such summons, and he had remained in the same + spot, too proud to have it supposed that he shrank from the interview. + </p> + <p> + With a firm, resolute step, he entered the presence of Allan Roscoe. + </p> + <p> + “I hear you wish to see me, Mr. Roscoe,” he said, manfully. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Hector; Guy has come to me with complaints of you.” + </p> + <p> + “If he says I knocked him down for insulting me, he has told you the + truth,” said Hector, sturdily. + </p> + <p> + “That was the substance of what he said, though he did not admit the + insult.” + </p> + <p> + “But for that I should not have attacked him.” + </p> + <p> + “I do not care to interfere in boys’ quarrels, except in extreme cases,” + said Mr. Roscoe. “I am afraid Guy was aggravating, and you were + unnecessarily violent.” + </p> + <p> + “It doesn’t seem to me so,” said Hector. + </p> + <p> + “So I regard it. I have warned him not to add by taunts to the poignancy + of your disappointment. I request you to remember that Guy is my son, and + that I am disposed to follow my brother’s directions, and provide for and + educate you.” + </p> + <p> + Hector bowed and retired. He went out with a more favorable opinion of + Allan Roscoe, who had treated the difficulty in a reasonable manner. + </p> + <p> + Allan Roscoe looked after him as he went out. + </p> + <p> + “I hate that boy,” he said, to himself; “I temporize from motives of + policy, but I mean to tame his haughty spirit yet.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V. PREPARING TO LEAVE HOME. + </h2> + <p> + Allan Roscoe’s remonstrance with the two boys had the effect of keeping + the peace between them for the remainder of the week. Guy did not think it + prudent to taunt Hector, unless backed up by his father, and he felt that + the change in their relative positions was satisfaction enough at present. + Besides, his father, in a subsequent conversation, had told Guy that it + was his purpose to place Hector in a boarding school, where the discipline + would be strict, and where he would be thrashed if he proved rebellious. + </p> + <p> + “I shall tell Mr. Smith,” he added, “that the boy needs a strong hand, and + that I am not only perfectly willing that he should be punished whenever + occasion may call for it, but really desire it.” + </p> + <p> + “Good, good!” commended Guy, gleefully. “I hope old Smith’ll lay it on + good.” + </p> + <p> + “I presume he will,” said Allan Roscoe, smiling in sympathy with his son’s + exuberance. “I am told by a man who knows him that he is a tall man, + strong enough to keep order, and determined to do it.” + </p> + <p> + “I should like to be there to see Hector’s first flogging,” remarked the + amiable Guy. “I’d rather see it than go to the theater any time.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t see how you can, unless you also enter the school.” + </p> + <p> + “No, thank you,” answered Guy. “No boarding school for me. That isn’t my + idea of enjoyment. I’d rather stay at home with you. Hector won’t be here + to interfere with my using his horse and buggy.” + </p> + <p> + “They are his no longer. I give them to you.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, father,” said Guy, very much gratified. + </p> + <p> + “But I would rather you would not use them till after Hector is gone. It + might disturb him.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s just why I want to do it.” + </p> + <p> + “But it might make trouble. He might refuse to go to school.” + </p> + <p> + “You’d make him go, wouldn’t you, father?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; but I wish to avoid forcible measures, if possible. Come, Guy, it’s + only till Monday; then Hector will be out of the way, and you can do as + you please without fear of interference.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, father. I’ll postpone my fun till he is out of the way. You’ll + go with him, won’t you?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Guy.” + </p> + <p> + “Just tell old Smith how to treat him. Tell him to show him no mercy, if + he doesn’t behave himself.” + </p> + <p> + “You seem to dislike Hector very much. You shouldn’t feel so. It isn’t + Christian.” + </p> + <p> + Guy looked at his father queerly out of the corner of his eye. He + understood him better than Allan Roscoe supposed. + </p> + <p> + “I hope you won’t insist on my loving him, father,” he said. “I leave that + to you.” + </p> + <p> + “I only wish you to avoid coming into collision with him. As for love, + that is something not within our power.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you be ready to go with me to boarding school on Monday morning, + Hector?” asked Allan Roscoe, on Saturday afternoon. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + Indeed, Hector felt that it would be a relief to get away from the house + which he had been taught to look upon as his—first by right of + inheritance, and later as actual owner. As long as he remained he was + unpleasantly reminded of the great loss he had experienced. Again, his + relations with Guy were unfriendly, and he knew that if they were + permanently together it wouldn’t be long before there would be another + collision. Though in such a case he was sure to come off victorious, he + did not care to contend, especially as no advantage could come of it in + the end. + </p> + <p> + Of the boarding school kept by Mr. Socrates Smith he had never heard, but + felt that he would, at any rate, prefer to find himself amid new scenes. + If the school were a good one, he meant to derive benefit from it, for he + was fond of books and study, and thought school duties no task. + </p> + <p> + “I have carefully selected a school for you,” continued Allan Roscoe, + “because I wish to follow out my poor brother’s wishes to the letter. A + good education will fit you to maintain yourself, and attain a creditable + station in life, which is very important, since you will have to carve + your own future.” + </p> + <p> + There was no objection to make to all this. Still, it did grate upon + Hector’s feelings, to be so often reminded of his penniless position, when + till recently he had regarded himself, and had been regarded by others, as + a boy of large property. + </p> + <p> + Smithville was accessible by railroad, being on the same line as the town + of Plympton in which Roscoe Castle was situated. There was a train + starting at seven o’clock, which reached Smithville at half-past, eight. + This was felt to be the proper train to take, as it would enable Hector to + reach school before the morning session began. Allan Roscoe, who was not + an early riser, made an effort to rise in time, and succeeded. In truth, + he was anxious to get Hector out of the house. It might be that the boy’s + presence was a tacit reproach, it might be that he had contracted a + dislike for him. At any rate, when Hector descended to the breakfast room, + he found Mr. Roscoe already there. + </p> + <p> + “You are in time, Hector,” said Mr. Roscoe. “I don’t know how early they + will get up at school, but I hope it won’t be earlier than this.” + </p> + <p> + “I have no objection to early rising,” said Hector. + </p> + <p> + “I have,” said Allan Roscoe, gaping. + </p> + <p> + “I am sorry to have inconvenienced you,” said Hector, politely. “I could + have gone to school alone.” + </p> + <p> + “No doubt; but I wished an interview with Mr. Socrates Smith myself. I + look upon myself in the light of your guardian, though you are not my + nephew, as was originally supposed.” + </p> + <p> + “I’d give a good deal to know whether this is true,” thought Hector, + fixing his eyes attentively upon his uncle’s face. + </p> + <p> + I have written “uncle” inadvertently, that being the character in which + Mr. Roscoe appeared to the world. + </p> + <p> + “By the way, Hector,” said Allan Roscoe, “there is one matter which we + have not yet settled.” + </p> + <p> + “What is that, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “About your name.” + </p> + <p> + “My name is Hector Roscoe.” + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon. Assuming by brother’s communication to be true, and I + think you will not question his word, you have no claim to the name.” + </p> + <p> + “To what name have I a claim, then?” asked Hector, pointedly. + </p> + <p> + “To the name of your father—the last name, I mean. I have no + objection to your retaining the name of Hector.” + </p> + <p> + “What was the name of my father?” asked the boy. + </p> + <p> + “Ahem! My brother did not mention that in his letter. Quite an omission, I + must observe.” + </p> + <p> + “Then it is clear that he meant to have me retain his own name,” said + Hector, decisively. + </p> + <p> + “That does not follow.” + </p> + <p> + “As I know no other name to which I have a claim, I shall certainly keep + the name of the kindest friend I ever had, whether he was my father or + not,” said Hector, firmly. + </p> + <p> + Allan Roscoe looked annoyed. + </p> + <p> + “Really,” he said, “I think this ill-judged, very ill-judged. It will lead + to misapprehension. It will deceive people into the belief that you are a + real Roscoe.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know but I am,” answered Hector, with a calm look of defiance, + which aggravated Allan Roscoe. + </p> + <p> + “Have I not told you you are not?” he said, frowning. + </p> + <p> + “You have; but you have not proved it,” said Hector. + </p> + <p> + “I am surprised that you should cling to a foolish delusion. You are only + preparing trouble for yourself. If my word is not sufficient—” + </p> + <p> + “You are an interested party. This story, if true, gives you my property.” + </p> + <p> + “At any rate, you may take your father’s—I mean my brother’s—word + for it.” + </p> + <p> + “If he had told me so, I would believe it,” said Hector. + </p> + <p> + “You have it in black and white, in the paper I showed you. What more do + you want?” + </p> + <p> + “I want to be sure that that document is genuine. However, I won’t argue + the question now. I have only been giving you my reasons for keeping the + name I have always regarded as mine.” + </p> + <p> + Allan Roscoe thought it best to drop the subject; but the boy’s + persistency disturbed him. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI. SMITH INSTITUTE. + </h2> + <p> + Socrates Smith, A. M., was not always known by the philosophic name by + which he challenged the world’s respect as a man of learning and + distinguished attainments. When a boy in his teens, and an academy + student, he was known simply as Shadrach Smith. His boy companions used to + address him familiarly as Shad. It was clear that no pedagogue could + retain the respect of his pupils who might readily be metamorphosed into + Old Shad. By the advice of a brother preacher, he dropped the plebeian + name, and bloomed forth as Socrates Smith, A. M. + </p> + <p> + I may say, in confidence, that no one knew from what college Mr. Smith + obtained the degree of Master of Arts. He always evaded the question + himself, saying that it was given him by a Western university causa + honoris. + </p> + <p> + It might be, or it might not. At any rate, he was allowed to wear the + title, since no one thought it worth while to make the necessary + examination into its genuineness. Nor, again, had anyone been able to + discover at what college the distinguished Socrates had studied. In truth, + he had never even entered college, but he had offered himself as a + candidate for admission to a college in Ohio, and been rejected. This did + not, however, prevent his getting up a school, and advertising to instruct + others in the branches of learning of which his own knowledge was so + incomplete. + </p> + <p> + He was able to hide his own deficiencies, having generally in his employ + some college graduate, whose poverty compelled him to accept the scanty + wages which Socrates doled out to him. These young men were generally poor + scholars in more than one sense of the word, as Mr. Smith did not care to + pay the high salary demanded by a first-class scholar. Mr. Smith was + shrewd enough not to attempt to instruct the classes in advanced classics + or mathematics, as he did not care to have his deficiencies understood by + his pupils. + </p> + <p> + It pleased him best to sit in state and rule the school, administering + reproofs and castigations where he thought fit, and, best of all, to + manage the finances. Though his price was less than that of many other + schools, his profits were liberal, as he kept down expenses. His table was + exceedingly frugal, as his boarding pupils could have testified, and the + salaries he paid to under teachers were pitifully small. + </p> + <p> + So it was that, year by year, Socrates Smith, A. M., found himself growing + richer, while his teachers grew more shabby, and his pupils rarely became + fat. + </p> + <p> + Allan Roscoe took a carriage from the depot to the school. + </p> + <p> + Arrived at the gate, he descended, and Hector followed him. + </p> + <p> + The school building was a long, rambling, irregular structure, of no known + order of architecture, bearing some resemblance to a factory. The ornament + of architecture Mr. Smith did not regard. He was strictly of a utilitarian + cast of mind. So long as the institute, as he often called it, afforded + room for the school and scholars he did not understand what more was + wanted. + </p> + <p> + “Is Mr. Smith at leisure?” Mr. Roscoe asked of a bare-arm servant girl who + answered the bell. + </p> + <p> + “I guess he’s in his office,” was the reply. + </p> + <p> + “Take him this card,” said Mr. Roscoe. The girl inspected the card with + some curiosity, and carried it to the eminent principal. When Socrates + Smith read upon the card the name + </p> + <p> + ALLAN ROSCOE, + </p> + <p> + and, penciled in the corner, “with a pupil,” he said, briskly: + </p> + <p> + “Bring the gentleman in at once, Bridget.” + </p> + <p> + As Mr. Roscoe entered, Mr. Smith beamed upon him genially. It was thus he + always received those who brought to him new scholars. As he always asked + half a term’s tuition and board in advance, every such visitor represented + to him so much ready cash, and for ready cash Socrates had a weakness. + </p> + <p> + “I am glad to see you, Mr. Roscoe,” said the learned principal, advancing + to meet his visitor. “And this is the young lad. Dear me! he is very well + grown, and looks like he was fond of his books.” + </p> + <p> + This was not exactly the way in which a learned scholar might be expected + to talk; but Mr. Smith’s speech was not always elegant, or even + grammatically correct. + </p> + <p> + “I believe he is reasonably fond of study,” said Mr. Roscoe. “Hector, this + is your future instructor, Prof. Socrates Smith.” + </p> + <p> + At the name of professor, which he much affected, Socrates Smith looked + positively benignant. + </p> + <p> + “My young friend,” he said, “we will try to make you happy. Smith + Institute is a regular beehive, full of busy workers, who are preparing + themselves for the duties and responsibilities of life. I aim to be a + father to my pupils, and Mrs. Smith is a mother to them. I am truly glad + to receive you into my happy family.” + </p> + <p> + Hector scanned attentively the face of his new teacher. He was not + altogether prepossessed in his favor. That the reader may judge whether he + had reason to be, let me describe Mr. Smith. + </p> + <p> + He was a trifle over six feet in height, with yellowish, sandy hair, high + cheek bones, a rough and mottled skin, a high but narrow forehead, a pair + of eyes somewhat like those of a ferret, long, ungainly limbs, and a + shambling walk. A coat of rusty black, with very long tails, magnified his + apparent height, and nothing that he wore seemed made for him. + </p> + <p> + Perhaps, as the first Socrates was said to have been the homeliest of all + the Athenians, it was fitting that the man who assumed his name should + also have the slightest possible claim to beauty. + </p> + <p> + “He may be a learned man,” thought Hector, “but he is certainly plain + enough. It is well that he has something to compensate for his looks.” + </p> + <p> + “I hope you are glad to come here, my boy,” said Socrates, affably. “I + sincerely trust that you will be contented at the institute.” + </p> + <p> + “I hope so, too,” said Hector, but he evidently spoke doubtfully. + </p> + <p> + “I should like a little conversation with you, Professor Smith,” said + Allan Roscoe. “I don’t know that it is necessary to keep Hector here + during our interview.” + </p> + <p> + Socrates took the hint. + </p> + <p> + He rang a hand bell, and a lank boy, of fifteen, appeared. + </p> + <p> + “Wilkius,” said Mr. Smith, “this is a new scholar, Hector Roscoe. Take him + to the playground, and introduce him to Mr. Crabb.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, sir. Come along.” + </p> + <p> + This last was addressed to Hector, who went out with the new boy. + </p> + <p> + “I thought it best to speak with you briefly about Hector, Professor + Smith,” commenced Allan Roscoe. + </p> + <p> + “Very appropriate and gratifying, Mr. Roscoe. I can assure you he will be + happy here.” + </p> + <p> + “I dare say,” returned Mr. Roscoe, carelessly. “I wish to guard you + against misinterpreting my wishes. I don’t want the boy pampered, or too + much indulged.” + </p> + <p> + “We never pamper our boarding pupils,” said Socrates, and it is quite + certain that he spoke the truth. + </p> + <p> + “It spoils boys to be too well treated.” + </p> + <p> + “So it does,” said Socrates, eagerly. “Plain, wholesome diet, without + luxury, and a kind, but strict discipline—such are the features of + Smith Institute.” + </p> + <p> + “Quite right and judicious, professor. I may remark that the boy, though + reared in luxury by my brother, is really penniless.” + </p> + <p> + “You don’t say so?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he is solely dependent upon my generosity. I propose, however, to + give him a good education at my own expense, and prepare him to earn his + living in some useful way.” + </p> + <p> + “Kind philanthropist!” exclaimed Socrates. “He ought, indeed, to be + grateful.” + </p> + <p> + “I doubt if he will,” said Mr. Roscoe, shrugging his shoulders. “He has a + proud spirit, and a high idea of his own position, though he is of unknown + parentage, and has nothing of his own.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed!” + </p> + <p> + “I merely wish to say that you do not need to treat him as if he were my + nephew. It is best to be strict with him, and make him conform to the + rules.” + </p> + <p> + “I will, indeed, Mr. Roscoe. Would that all guardians of youth were as + judicious! Your wishes shall be regarded.” + </p> + <p> + After a little more conversation, Allan Roscoe took his leave. + </p> + <p> + So, under auspices not the most pleasant, Hector’s school life began. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII. THE TYRANT OF THE PLAYGROUND. + </h2> + <p> + Under the guidance of the lank boy, named Wilkins, Hector left Mr. Smith’s + office, and walked to a barren-looking plot of ground behind the house, + which served as a playground for the pupils of Smith Institute. + </p> + <p> + Wilkins scanned the new arrival closely. + </p> + <p> + “I say, Roscoe,” he commenced, “what made you come here?” + </p> + <p> + “Why do boys generally come to school?” returned Hector. + </p> + <p> + “Because they have to, I suppose,” answered Wilkins. + </p> + <p> + “I thought they came to study.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you’re one of that sort, are you?” asked Wilkins, curiously. + </p> + <p> + “I hope to learn something here.” + </p> + <p> + “You’ll get over that soon,” answered Wilkins, in the tone of one who + could boast of a large experience. + </p> + <p> + “I hope not. I shall want to leave school if I find I can’t learn here.” + </p> + <p> + “Who is it that brought you here—your father?” + </p> + <p> + “No, indeed!” answered Hector, quickly, for he had no desire to be + considered the son of Allan Roscoe. + </p> + <p> + “Uncle, then?” + </p> + <p> + “He is my guardian,” answered Hector, briefly. + </p> + <p> + They were by this time in the playground. Some dozen boys were playing + baseball. They were of different ages and sizes, ranging from ten to + nineteen. The oldest and largest bore such a strong personal resemblance + to Socrates Smith, that Hector asked if he were his son. + </p> + <p> + “No,” answered Wilkins; “he is old Sock’s nephew.” + </p> + <p> + “Who is old Sock?” + </p> + <p> + “Smith, of course. His name is Socrates, you know. Don’t let him catch you + calling him that, though.” + </p> + <p> + “What sort of a fellow is this nephew?” asked Hector. + </p> + <p> + “He’s a bully. He bosses the boys. It’s best to keep on the right side of + Jim.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, is it?” inquired Hector, smiling slightly. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I should say so.” + </p> + <p> + “Suppose you don’t?” + </p> + <p> + “He’ll give you a thrashing.” + </p> + <p> + “Does his uncle allow that?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; I think he rather likes it.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t the boys resist?” + </p> + <p> + “It won’t do any good. You see, Jim’s bigger than any of us.” + </p> + <p> + Hector took a good look at this redoubtable Jim Smith. + </p> + <p> + He was rather loosely made, painfully homely, and about five feet nine + inches in height. Nothing more need be said, as, in appearance, he closely + resembled his uncle. + </p> + <p> + Jim Smith soon gave Hector an opportunity of verifying the description + given of him by Wilkins. + </p> + <p> + The boy at the bat had struck a ball to the extreme boundary of the field. + The fielder at that point didn’t go so fast as Jim, who was pitcher, + thought satisfactory, and he called out in a rough, brutal tone: + </p> + <p> + “If you don’t go quicker, Archer, I’ll kick you all round the field.” + </p> + <p> + Hector looked at Wilkins inquiringly. + </p> + <p> + “Does he mean that?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he does.” + </p> + <p> + “Does he ever make such a brute of himself?” + </p> + <p> + “Often.” + </p> + <p> + “And the boys allow it?” + </p> + <p> + “They can’t help it.” + </p> + <p> + “So, it seems, you have a tyrant of the school?” + </p> + <p> + “That’s just it.” + </p> + <p> + “Isn’t there any boy among you to teach the fellow better manners? You + must be cowards to submit.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you’ll find out soon that you must submit, too,” said Wilkins. + </p> + <p> + Hector smiled. + </p> + <p> + “You don’t know me yet,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “What could you do against Jim? He’s three or four inches taller than you. + How old are you?” + </p> + <p> + “I shall be sixteen next month.” + </p> + <p> + “And he is nineteen.” + </p> + <p> + “That may be; but he’d better not try to order me round.” + </p> + <p> + “You’ll sing a different tune in a day or two,” said Wilkins. + </p> + <p> + By this time Jim Smith had observed the new arrival. + </p> + <p> + “What’s that you’ve got with you, Wilkins?” he demanded, pausing in his + play. + </p> + <p> + “The new boy.” + </p> + <p> + “Who’s he?” + </p> + <p> + “His name is Roscoe.” + </p> + <p> + “Ho! Hasn’t he got any other name?” asked Jim, meaningly. + </p> + <p> + Wilkins had forgotten the new arrival’s first name, and said so. + </p> + <p> + “What’s your name, Roscoe?” asked Jim, in the tone of a superior. + </p> + <p> + Hector resented this tone, and, though he had no objection, under ordinary + circumstances, to answering the question, he did not choose to gratify his + present questioner. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t happen to have a card with me,” he answered, coldly. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that’s your answer, is it?” retorted Jim, scenting insubordination + with undisguised pleasure, for he always liked the task of subduing a new + boy. + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “I guess you don’t know who I am,” said Jim, blustering. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, I do.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, who am I, then?” + </p> + <p> + “The bully of the school, I should suppose, from your style of behavior.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you hear that, boys?” demanded Jim, in a theatrical tone, turning to + the other boys. + </p> + <p> + There was a little murmur in response, but whether of approval or + reprobation, it was not easy to judge. + </p> + <p> + “That boy calls me a bully! He actually has the audacity to insult me! + What do you say to that?” + </p> + <p> + The boys looked uneasy. Possibly, in their secret hearts, they admired the + audacity that Jim complained of; but, seeing the difference between the + two boys in size and apparent strength, it did not seem to them prudent to + espouse the side of Hector. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t you think I ought to teach him a lesson?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes!” cried several of the smaller boys, who stood in awe of the bully. + </p> + <p> + Hector smiled slightly, but did not seem in the least intimidated. + </p> + <p> + “Jim,” said Wilkins, “the boy’s guardian is inside with your uncle.” + </p> + <p> + This was meant as a warning, and received as such. A boy’s guardian is + presumed to be his friend, and it would not be exactly prudent, while the + guardian was closeted with the principal, to make an assault upon the + pupil. + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” said Jim; “we’ll postpone Roscoe’s case. This afternoon will + do as well. Come, boys, let us go on with the game.” + </p> + <p> + “What made you speak to Jim in that way?” expostulated Wilkins. “I’m + afraid you’ve got into hot water.” + </p> + <p> + “Didn’t I tell the truth about him?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” answered Wilkins, cautiously; “but you’ve made an enemy of him.” + </p> + <p> + “I was sure to do that, sooner or later,” said Hector, unconcernedly. “It + might as well be now as any time.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you know what he’ll do this afternoon?” + </p> + <p> + “What will he do?” + </p> + <p> + “He’ll give you a thrashing.” + </p> + <p> + “Without asking my permission?” asked Hector, smiling. + </p> + <p> + “You’re a queer boy! Of course, he won’t trouble himself about that. You + don’t seem to mind it,” he continued, eying Hector curiously. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps you think Jim can’t hurt. I know better than that.” + </p> + <p> + “Did he ever thrash you, then?” + </p> + <p> + “Half a dozen times.” + </p> + <p> + “Why didn’t you tell his uncle?” + </p> + <p> + “It would be no use. Jim would tell his story, and old Sock would believe + him. But here’s Mr. Crabb, the usher, the man I was to introduce you to.” + </p> + <p> + Hector looked up, and saw advancing a young man, dressed in rusty black, + with a meek and long-suffering expression, as one who was used to being + browbeaten. He was very shortsighted, and wore eyeglasses. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIII. IN THE SCHOOLROOM. + </h2> + <p> + “Mr. Crabb,” said Wilkins, “this is the new scholar, Roscoe. Mr. Smith + asked me to bring him to you.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, indeed!” said Crabb, adjusting his glasses, which seemed to sit + uneasily on his nose. “I hope you are well, Roscoe?” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, sir; my health is good.” + </p> + <p> + “The schoolbell will ring directly. Perhaps you had better come into the + schoolroom and select a desk.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you a classical scholar, Roscoe?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “And how far may you have gone now?” queried Crabb. + </p> + <p> + “I was reading the fifth book of Virgil when I left off study.” + </p> + <p> + “Really, you are quite a scholar. I suppose you don’t know any Greek?” + </p> + <p> + “I was in the second book of the Anabasis.” + </p> + <p> + “You will go into the first class, then. I hope you will become one of the + ornaments of the institute.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you. Is the first class under Mr. Smith?” + </p> + <p> + “No; I teach the first class,” said Crabb, with a modest cough. + </p> + <p> + “I thought the principal usually took the first class himself?” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Smith comes into the room occasionally and supervises, but he has too + much business on hand to teach regularly himself.” + </p> + <p> + “Is Mr. Smith a good scholar?” asked Hector. + </p> + <p> + “Ahem!” answered Mr. Crabb, evidently embarrassed; “I presume so. You + should not ask Ahem! irrelevant questions.” + </p> + <p> + In fact, Mr. Crabb had serious doubts as to the fact assumed. He knew that + whenever a pupil went to the principal to ask a question in Latin or + Greek, he was always referred to Crabb himself, or some other teacher. + This, to be sure, proved nothing, but in an unguarded moment, Mr. Smith + had ventured to answer a question himself, and his answer was ludicrously + incorrect. + </p> + <p> + The schoolroom was a moderate-sized, dreary-looking room, with another + smaller room opening out of it, which was used as a separate recitation + room. + </p> + <p> + “Here is a vacant desk,” said Mr. Crabb, pointing out one centrally + situated. + </p> + <p> + “I think that will do. Who sits at the next desk?” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Smith’s nephew.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that big bully I saw on the playground?” + </p> + <p> + “Hush!” said Crabb, apprehensively. “Mr. Smith would not like to have you + speak so of his nephew.” + </p> + <p> + “So, Mr. Crabb is afraid of the cad,” soliloquized Hector. “I suppose I + may think what I please about him,” he added, smiling pleasantly. + </p> + <p> + “Ye-es, of course; but, Master Roscoe, let me advise you to be prudent.” + </p> + <p> + “Is he in your class?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Is he much of a scholar?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t think he cares much for Latin and Greek,” answered Mr. Crabb. + “But I must ring the bell. I see that it wants but five minutes of nine.” + </p> + <p> + “About my desk?” + </p> + <p> + “Here is another vacant desk, but it is not as well located.” + </p> + <p> + “Never mind. I will take it. I shall probably have a better neighbor.” + </p> + <p> + The bell was rung. Another teacher appeared, an elderly man, who looked as + if all his vitality had been expended on his thirty years of teaching. He, + too, was shabbily dressed—his coat being shiny and napless, and his + vest lacking two out of the five original buttons. + </p> + <p> + “I guess Smith doesn’t pay very high salaries,” thought Hector. “Poor + fellows. His teachers look decidedly seedy.” + </p> + <p> + The boys began to pour in, not only those on the playground, but as many + more who lived in the village, and were merely day scholars. Jim Smith + stalked in with an independent manner and dropped into his seat + carelessly. He looked around him patronizingly. He felt that he was master + of the situation. Both ushers and all the pupils stood in fear of him, as + he well knew. Only to his uncle did he look up as his superior, and he + took care to be on good terms with him, as it was essential to the + maintenance of his personal authority. + </p> + <p> + Last of all, Mr. Smith, the learned principal, walked into the schoolroom + with the air of a commanding general, followed by Allan Roscoe, who he had + invited to see the school in operation. + </p> + <p> + Socrates Smith stood upright behind his desk, and waved his hand + majestically. + </p> + <p> + “My young friends,” he said; “this is a marked day. We have with us a new + boy, who is henceforth to be one of us, to be a member of our happy + family, to share in the estimable advantages which you all enjoy. Need I + say that I refer to Master Roscoe, the ward of our distinguished friend, + Mr. Allan Roscoe, who sits beside me, and with interest, I am sure, + surveys our institute?” + </p> + <p> + As he spoke he turned towards Mr. Roscoe, who nodded an acknowledgment. + </p> + <p> + “I may say to Mr. Roscoe that I am proud of my pupils, and the progress + they have made under my charge. (The principal quietly ignored the two + ushers who did all the teaching.) When these boys have reached a high + position in the world, it will be my proudest boast that they were + prepared for the duties of life at Smith Institute. Compared with this + proud satisfaction, the few paltry dollars I exact as my honorarium are + nothing—absolutely nothing.” + </p> + <p> + Socrates looked virtuous and disinterested as he gave utterance to this + sentiment. + </p> + <p> + “And now, boys, you will commence your daily exercises, under the + direction of my learned associates, Mr. Crabb and Mr. Jones.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crabb looked feebly complacent at this compliment, though he knew it + was only because a visitor was present. In private, Socrates was rather + apt to speak slightingly of his attainments. + </p> + <p> + “While I am absent with my distinguished friend, Mr. Roscoe, I expect you + to pursue your studies diligently, and preserve the most perfect order.” + </p> + <p> + With these words, the stately figure of Socrates passed through the door, + followed by Mr. Roscoe. + </p> + <p> + “A pleasant sight, Mr. Roscoe,” said the principal; “this company of + ambitious, aspiring students, all pressing forward eagerly in pursuit of + learning?” + </p> + <p> + “Quite true, sir,” answered Allan Roscoe. + </p> + <p> + “I wish you could stay with us for a whole day, to inspect at your leisure + the workings of our educational system.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Mr. Smith,” answered Mr. Roscoe, with an inward shudder; “but + I have important engagements that call me away immediately.” + </p> + <p> + “Then we must reluctantly take leave of you. I hope you will feel easy + about your nephew—” + </p> + <p> + “My ward,” corrected Allan Roscoe. + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon—I should have remembered—your ward.” + </p> + <p> + “I leave him, with confidence, in your hands, my dear sir.” + </p> + <p> + So Allan Roscoe took his leave. + </p> + <p> + Let us look in upon the aspiring and ambitious scholars, after Mr. Smith + left them in charge of the ushers. + </p> + <p> + Jim Smith signalized his devotion to study by producing an apple core, and + throwing it with such skillful aim that it struck Mr. Crabb in the back of + the head. + </p> + <p> + The usher turned quickly, his face flushed with wild indignation. + </p> + <p> + “Who threw that missile?” he asked, in a vexed tone. + </p> + <p> + Of course no one answered. + </p> + <p> + “I hope no personal disrespect was intended,” continued the usher. + </p> + <p> + Again no answer. + </p> + <p> + “Does anyone know who threw it?” asked Mr. Crabb. + </p> + <p> + “I think it was the new scholar,” said Jim Smith, with a malicious look at + Hector. + </p> + <p> + “Master Roscoe,” said Mr. Crabb, with a pained look, “I hope you have not + started so discreditably in your school life.” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir,” answered Hector; “I hope I am not so ungentlemanly. I don’t + like to be an informer, but I saw Smith himself throw it at you. As he has + chosen to lay it to me, I have no hesitation in exposing him.” + </p> + <p> + Jim Smith’s face flushed with anger. + </p> + <p> + “I’ll get even with you, you young muff!” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Whenever you please!” said Hector, disdainfully. + </p> + <p> + “Really, young gentlemen, these proceedings are very irregular!” said Mr. + Crabb, feebly. + </p> + <p> + With Jim Smith he did not remonstrate at all, though he had no doubt that + Hector’s charge was rightly made. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IX. THE CLASS IN VIRGIL. + </h2> + <p> + Presently the class in Virgil was called up. To this class Hector had been + assigned, though it had only advanced about half through the third book of + the AEneid, while Hector was in the fifth. + </p> + <p> + “As there is no other class in Virgil, Roscoe, you had better join the one + we have. It will do you no harm to review.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, sir,” said Hector. + </p> + <p> + The class consisted of five boys, including Hector. Besides Jim Smith, + Wilkins, Bates and Johnson belonged to it. As twenty-five lines had been + assigned for a lesson, Hector had no difficulty in preparing himself, and + that in a brief time. The other boys were understood to have studied the + lesson out of school. + </p> + <p> + Bates read first, and did very fairly. Next came Jim Smith, who did not + seem quite so much at home in Latin poetry as on the playground. He + pronounced the Latin words in flagrant violation of all the rules of + quantity, and when he came to give the English meaning, his translation + was a ludicrous farrago of nonsense. Yet, poor Mr. Crabb did not dare, + apparently, to characterize it as it deserved. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t think you have quite caught the author’s meaning, Mr. Smith,” he + said. By the way, Jim was the only pupil to whose name he prefixed the + title “Mr.” + </p> + <p> + “I couldn’t make anything else out of it,” muttered Jim. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps some other member of the class may have been more successful! + Johnson, how do you read it?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t understand it very well, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Wilkins, were you more successful?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Roscoe, can you translate the passage?” + </p> + <p> + “I think so, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Proceed, then.” + </p> + <p> + Hector at once gave a clear and luminous rendering of the passage, and his + version was not only correct, but was expressed in decent English. This is + a point in which young classical scholars are apt to fail. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crabb was not in the habit of hearing such good translations, and he + was surprised and gratified. + </p> + <p> + “Very well! Very well, indeed, Roscoe,” he said, approvingly. “Mr. Smith, + you may go on.” + </p> + <p> + “He’d better go ahead and finish it,” said Smith, sulkily. “He probably + got it out of a pony.” + </p> + <p> + My young readers who are in college or classical schools, will understand + that a “pony” is an English translation of a classical author. + </p> + <p> + “He is mistaken!” said Hector, quietly. “I have never seen a translation + of Virgil.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Smith shrugged his shoulders, and drew down the corners of his mouth, + intending thereby to express his incredulity. + </p> + <p> + “I hope no boy will use a translation,” said the usher; “it will make his + work easier for the time being, but in the end it will embarrass him. + Roscoe, as you have commenced, you may continue. Translate the remainder + of the passage.” + </p> + <p> + Hector did so, exhibiting equal readiness. + </p> + <p> + The other boys took their turns, and then words were given out to parse. + Here Jim Smith showed himself quite at sea; though the usher, as it was + evident, selected the easiest words for him, he made a mistake in every + one. Apparently he was by no means certain which of the words were nouns, + and which verbs, and as to the relations which they sustained to other + words in the sentence he appeared to have very little conception. + </p> + <p> + At length the recitation was over. It had demonstrated one thing, that in + Latin scholarship Hector was far more accurate and proficient than any of + his classmates, while Jim Smith stood far below all the rest. + </p> + <p> + “What in the world can the teacher be thinking of, to keep such an + ignoramus in the class?” thought Hector. “He doesn’t know enough to join a + class in the Latin Reader.” + </p> + <p> + The fact was, that Jim Smith was unwilling to give up his place as a + member of the highest class in Latin, because he knew it would detract + from his rank in the school. Mr. Crabb, to whom every recitation was a + torture, had one day ventured to suggest that it would be better to drop + into the Caesar class; but he never ventured to make the suggestion again, + so unfavorably was it received by his backward pupil. He might, in the + case of a different pupil, have referred the matter to the principal, but + Socrates Smith was sure to decide according to the wishes of his nephew, + and did not himself possess knowledge enough of the Latin tongue to detect + his gross mistakes. + </p> + <p> + After a time came recess. Hector wished to arrange the books in his desk, + and did not go out. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crabb came up to his desk and said: “Roscoe, I must compliment you on + your scholarship. You enter at the head. You are in advance of all the + other members of the class.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, sir,” said Hector, gratified. + </p> + <p> + “There is one member of the class who is not competent to remain in it.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir; I observed that.” + </p> + <p> + “But he is unwilling to join a lower class. It is a trial to me to hear + his daily failures, but, perhaps, he would do no better anywhere else. He + would be as incompetent to interpret Caesar as Virgil, I am afraid.” + </p> + <p> + “So I should suppose, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “By the way, Roscoe,” said the usher, hurriedly; “let me caution you + against irritating Smith. He is the principal’s nephew, and so we give him + more scope.” + </p> + <p> + “He seems to me a bully,” said Hector. + </p> + <p> + “So he is.” + </p> + <p> + “I can’t understand why the boys should give in to him as they do.” + </p> + <p> + “He is taller and stronger than the other boys. Besides, he is backed up + by the principal. I hope you won’t get into difficulty with him.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Mr. Crabb. Your caution is kindly meant, but I am not afraid + of this Jim—Smith. I am quite able to defend myself if attacked.” + </p> + <p> + “I hope so,” said the usher; but he scanned Hector’s physical proportions + doubtfully, and it was very clear that he did not think him a match for + the young tyrant of the school. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile, Jim Smith and his schoolfellows were amusing themselves in the + playground. + </p> + <p> + “Where’s that new fellow?” asked Jim, looking back to see whether he had + come out. + </p> + <p> + “He didn’t come out,” said Bates. + </p> + <p> + Jim nodded his head vigorously: + </p> + <p> + “Just as I expected,” he said. “He knows where he is well off.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you think he was afraid to come?” asked Bates. + </p> + <p> + “To be sure he was. He knew what to expect.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you going to thrash him?” asked Johnson. + </p> + <p> + “I should say I might.” + </p> + <p> + “He’s a very good Latin scholar,” remarked Wilkins. + </p> + <p> + “He thinks he is!” sneered Jim. + </p> + <p> + “So Mr. Crabb appears to think.” + </p> + <p> + “That for old Crabb!” said Jim, contemptuously, snapping his fingers. “He + don’t know much himself. I’ve caught him in plenty of mistakes.” + </p> + <p> + This was certainly very amusing, considering Smith’s absolute ignorance of + even the Latin rudiments, but the boys around him did not venture to + contradict him. + </p> + <p> + “But it don’t make any difference whether he knows Latin or not,” + proceeded Jim. “He has been impudent to me, and he shall suffer for it. I + was hoping to get a chance at him this recess, but it’ll keep.” + </p> + <p> + “You might spoil his appetite for dinner,” said Bates, who was rather a + toady to Jim. + </p> + <p> + “That’s just exactly what I expect to do; at any rate, for supper. I’ve + got to have a reckoning with that young muff.” + </p> + <p> + The recess lasted fifteen minutes. At the end of that time the schoolbell + rang, and the boys trooped back into the schoolroom. + </p> + <p> + Hector sat at his desk looking tranquil and at ease. He alone seemed + unaware of the fate that was destined for him. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER X. DINNER AT SMITH INSTITUTE. + </h2> + <p> + At twelve o’clock the morning session closed. Then came an intermission of + an hour, during which the day scholars either ate lunch brought with them, + or went to their homes in the village to partake of a warm repast. + </p> + <p> + At ten minutes past twelve, a red-armed servant girl made her appearance + at the back door looking out on the playground, and rang a huge dinner + bell. The boys dropped their games, and made what haste they could to the + dining room. + </p> + <p> + “Now for a feast!” said Wilkins to Hector, significantly. + </p> + <p> + “Does Mr. Smith furnish good board?” asked Hector, for he felt the hunger + of a healthy boy who had taken an early breakfast. + </p> + <p> + “Good grub?” said Wilkins, making a face. “Wait till you see. Old Sock + isn’t going to ruin himself providing his pupils with the delicacies of + the season.” + </p> + <p> + “I’m sorry for that. I am confoundedly hungry.” + </p> + <p> + “Hungry!” exclaimed Wilkins. “I’ve been I hungry ever since I came here.” + </p> + <p> + “Is it as bad as that?” asked Hector, rather alarmed. + </p> + <p> + “I should say so. I haven’t had a square meal—what I call a square + meal—for four weeks, and that’s just the time since I left home.” + </p> + <p> + They had reached the door of the dining-room by this time. + </p> + <p> + In the center stood a long table, but there didn’t seem to be much on it + except empty plates. At a side table stood Mrs. Smith, ladling out soup + from a large tureen. + </p> + <p> + “That’s the first course,” whispered Wilkins. “I hope you’ll like it.” + </p> + <p> + The boys filed in and took seats. The servant girl already referred to + began to bring plates of soup and set before the boys. It was a thin, + unwholesome-looking mixture, with one or two small pieces of meat, about + the size of a chestnut, in each plate, and fragments of potatoes and + carrots. A small, triangular wedge of dry bread was furnished with each + portion of soup. + </p> + <p> + “We all begin to eat together. Don’t be in a hurry,” said Wilkins, in a + low tone. + </p> + <p> + When all the boys were served, Socrates Smith, who sat in an armchair at + the head of the table, said: + </p> + <p> + “Boys, we are now about to partake of the bounties of Providence, let me + hope, with grateful hearts.” + </p> + <p> + He touched a hand bell, and the boys took up their soup spoons. + </p> + <p> + Hector put a spoonful gingerly into his mouth, and then, stopping short, + looked at Wilkins. His face was evidently struggling not to express + disgust. + </p> + <p> + “Is it always as bad?” he asked, in a whisper. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” answered Wilkins, shrugging his shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “But you eat it!” + </p> + <p> + Wilkins had already swallowed his third spoonful. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t want to starve,” answered Wilkins, significantly. “You’ll get + used to it in time.” + </p> + <p> + Hector tried to dispose of a second spoonful, but he had to give it up. At + home he was accustomed to a luxurious table, and this meal seemed to be a + mere mockery. Yet he felt hungry. So he took up the piece of bread at the + side of his plate, and, though it was dry, he succeeded in eating it. + </p> + <p> + By this time his left-hand neighbor, a boy named Colburn, had finished his + soup. He looked longingly at Hector’s almost untasted plate. + </p> + <p> + “Ain’t you going to eat your soup?” he asked, in a hoarse whisper + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “Give it to me?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + In a trice, Colburn had appropriated Hector’s plate and put his own empty + one in its place. Just after this transfer had been made, Mr. Smith looked + over to where Hector was sitting. He observed the empty plate, and said to + himself: “That new boy has been gorging himself. He must have a terrible + appetite. Well, that’s one good thing, he ain’t dainty. Some boys turn up + their noses at plain, wholesome diet. I didn’t know but he might.” + </p> + <p> + Presently the hand bell rang again, and the soup plates were removed. In + their places were set dinner plates, containing a small section each of + corned beef, with a consumptive-looking potato, very probably “soggy.” At + any rate, this was the case with Hector’s. He succeeded in eating the + meat, but not the potato. + </p> + <p> + “Give me your potato?” asked his left-hand neighbor. + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + It was quickly appropriated. Hector looked with some curiosity at the boy + who did so much justice to boarding-school fare. He was a thin, pale boy, + who looked as if he had been growing rapidly, as, indeed, he had. This, + perhaps, it was that stimulated his appetite. Afterward Hector asked him + if he really liked his meals. + </p> + <p> + “No,” he said; “they’re nasty.” + </p> + <p> + He was an English boy, which accounted for his use of the last word. + </p> + <p> + “You eat them as if you liked them,” remarked Hector. + </p> + <p> + “I’m so hungry,” apologized Colburn, mournfully. “I’m always hungry. I eat + to fill up, not ‘cause I like it. I could eat anything.” + </p> + <p> + “I believe he could,” said Wilkins, who overheard this conversation. + “Could you eat fried cat, now?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” answered Colburn, honestly. “There would be something hearty and + filling about fried cat. I ain’t half full now.” + </p> + <p> + It was just after dinner. + </p> + <p> + Hector might have said the same thing at the end of his first dinner. + There was, indeed, another course. It consisted of some pale, flabby apple + pie, about half baked. The slices given were about half the size of those + that are ordinarily supplied at private tables and restaurants. Hector + managed to eat the apple, but the crust he was obliged to leave. He + noticed, however, that his fellow pupils were not so fastidious. + </p> + <p> + When the last fragment of pie had disappeared, Mr. Smith again rang the + hand bell. + </p> + <p> + “Boys,” he said, “we have now satisfied our appetites.” + </p> + <p> + “I haven’t,” thought Hector. + </p> + <p> + “We have once more experienced the bountiful goodness of Providence in + supplying our material wants. As we sit down to our plain but wholesome + diet, I wonder how many of us are sensible of our good fortune. I wonder + how many of us think of the thousands of poor children, scattered about + the world, who know not where to get their daily bread. You have been + refreshed, and have reinforced your strength; you will soon be ready to + resume your studies, and thus, also, take in a supply of mental food, for, + as you are all aware, or ought to be aware, the mind needs to be fed as + well as the body. There will first be a short season for games and + out-of-door amusements. Mr. Crabb, will you accompany the boys to the + playground and superintend their sports?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crabb also had participated in the rich feast, and rose with the same + unsatisfied but resigned look which characterized the rest. He led the way + to the playground, and the boys trooped after him. + </p> + <p> + “Really, Wilkins,” said Hector, in a low tone, “this is getting serious. + Isn’t there any place outside where one can get something to eat?” + </p> + <p> + “There’s a baker’s half a mile away, but you can’t go till after afternoon + session.” + </p> + <p> + “Show me the way there, then, and I’ll buy something for both of us.” + </p> + <p> + “All right,” said Wilkins, brightening up. + </p> + <p> + “By the way, I didn’t see Jim Smith at the table.” + </p> + <p> + “No; he eats with his uncle and aunt afterward. You noticed that old Sock + didn’t eat just now.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I wondered at it.” + </p> + <p> + “He has something a good deal better afterward. He wouldn’t like our + dinner any better than we did; but he is better off, for he needn’t eat + it.” + </p> + <p> + “So Jim fares better than the rest of us, does he?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he’s one of the family, you know.” + </p> + <p> + Just then pleasant fumes were wafted to the boys’ nostrils, and they saw + through the open window, with feelings that cannot well be described, a + pair of roast chickens carried from the kitchen to the dining-room. + </p> + <p> + “See what old Sock and Ma’am Sock are going to have for dinner?” said + Wilkins, enviously. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t like to look at it. It is too tantalizing,” said Hector. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XI. HECTOR RECEIVES A SUMMONS. + </h2> + <p> + It so happened that Hector was well provided with money. During the life + of Mr. Roscoe, whom he regarded as his father, he had a liberal allowance—liberal + beyond his needs—and out of it had put by somewhat over a hundred + dollars. The greater part of this was deposited for safe-keeping in a + savings bank, but he had twenty-five dollars in his possession. + </p> + <p> + At the time he was saving his money, he regarded himself as the heir and + future possessor of the estate, and had no expectation of ever needing it. + It had been in his mind that it would give him an opportunity of helping, + out of his private funds, any deserving poor person who might apply to + him. When the unexpected revelation had been made to him that he had no + claim to the estate, he was glad that he was not quite penniless. He did + not care to apply for money to Allan Roscoe. It would have been a + confession of dependence, and very humiliating to him. + </p> + <p> + No sooner was school out, than he asked Wilkins to accompany him to the + baker’s, that he might make up for the deficiencies of Mr. Smith’s meager + table. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose, if I guide you, you’ll stand treat, Roscoe?” said Wilkins. + </p> + <p> + “Of course.” + </p> + <p> + “Then let us go,” said his schoolfellow, with alacrity. “I’d like to get + the taste of that beastly dinner out of my mouth.” + </p> + <p> + They found the baker’s, but close beside it was a restaurant, where more + substantial fare could be obtained. + </p> + <p> + “Wilkins,” said Hector, “I think I would rather have a plate of meat.” + </p> + <p> + “All right! I’m with you.” + </p> + <p> + So the two boys went into the restaurant, and ordered plates of roast + beef, which they ate with evident enjoyment. + </p> + <p> + “I guess,” said the waiter, grinning, “you two chaps come from the + institute.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” answered Hector. “What makes you think so?” + </p> + <p> + “The way you eat. They do say old Smith half starves the boys.” + </p> + <p> + “You’re not far from right,” said Wilkins; “but it isn’t alone the + quantity, but the quality that’s amiss.” + </p> + <p> + They ate their dinner, leaving not a crumb, and then rose refreshed. + </p> + <p> + “I feel splendid,” said Wilkins. “I just wish I boarded at the restaurant + instead of the doctor’s. Thank you, Roscoe, for inviting me.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, Wilkins! We’ll come again some day.” + </p> + <p> + Somehow the extra dinner seemed to warm the heart of Wilkins, and inspire + in him a feeling of friendly interest for Hector. + </p> + <p> + “I say, Hector, I’ll tell you something.” + </p> + <p> + “Go ahead.” + </p> + <p> + “You’ve got to keep your eyes open.” + </p> + <p> + “I generally do,” answered Hector, smiling, “except at night.” + </p> + <p> + “I mean when Jim Smith’s round.” + </p> + <p> + “Why particularly when he is around?” + </p> + <p> + “Because he means to thrash you.” + </p> + <p> + “What for?” + </p> + <p> + “You are too independent. You don’t bow down to him, and look up to him.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t mean to,” said Hector, promptly. + </p> + <p> + “If you don’t you’ll see trouble, and that very soon.” + </p> + <p> + “Let it come!” said Hector, rather contemptuously. + </p> + <p> + “You don’t seem afraid!” said Wilkins, regarding him curiously. + </p> + <p> + “Because I am not afraid. Isn’t that a good reason?” + </p> + <p> + “You don’t think you can stand up against Jim, do you?” + </p> + <p> + “I will see when the time comes.” + </p> + <p> + “I shouldn’t be a bit surprised if he were looking out for you at this + very moment, and wondering where you are.” + </p> + <p> + It seemed that Wilkins was right. As they approached the school grounds, + John Bates came running to meet them. + </p> + <p> + “Where have you been, you two?” he said. + </p> + <p> + “To the village,” answered Wilkins. + </p> + <p> + “What for?” + </p> + <p> + “For a walk,” answered Wilkins, with a warning glance at Hector. It would + have been awkward if the principal had heard that they had been compelled + to eke out their meager dinner at a restaurant. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Jim wants you. Leastways, he wants Roscoe.” + </p> + <p> + Bates looked as if he expected Roscoe would immediately hasten to comply + with the wishes of the redoubtable Jim. + </p> + <p> + “If he wants me, he can come to me,” said Hector, independently. + </p> + <p> + “But I say, that won’t do. Jim won’t be satisfied.” + </p> + <p> + “Won’t he? I don’t know that that particularly concerns me.” + </p> + <p> + “Shall I tell him that?” + </p> + <p> + “If you choose.” + </p> + <p> + Bates looked as if Hector had been guilty of some enormity. What, defy the + wishes, the mandates, of Jim Smith, the king of the school and the tyrant + of all the small boys! He felt that Hector Roscoe was rushing on his fate. + </p> + <p> + “I advise you to come,” he said, “Jim’s mad with you already, and he’ll + lick you worse if you send him a message like that.” + </p> + <p> + “He will probably have to take blows, as well as give them,” said Hector. + </p> + <p> + “Then I am to tell him what you said?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course.” + </p> + <p> + With a look that seemed to say, “Your fate be on your own head!” Bates + walked away. + </p> + <p> + “John Bates is always toadying to Jim,” said Wilkins. “So he’s prime + favorite when Jim is good-natured—when he’s cross, I’ve seen him + kick Bates.” + </p> + <p> + “And Bates didn’t resent it?” + </p> + <p> + “He didn’t dare to. He’d come round him the next day the same as ever.” + </p> + <p> + “Has the boy no self-respect?” asked Hector, in a tone of disgust. + </p> + <p> + “He doesn’t seem to have.” + </p> + <p> + As soon as school was out, Jim Smith had looked round for the new boy, who + seemed disposed to defy his authority. On account of eating at different + tables, they had not met during the noon intermission. At any rate, there + had not been time to settle the question of subserviency. Through the + afternoon session Jim had been anticipating the signal punishment which he + intended to inflict upon the newcomer. + </p> + <p> + “I’ll show him!” he said to himself. “Tomorrow he’ll be singing a + different tune, or I am mistaken.” + </p> + <p> + This was the way Jim had been accustomed to break in refractory new + arrivals. The logic of his fist usually proved a convincing argument, and + thus far his supremacy had never been successfully resisted. He was + confident that he would not be interfered with. Secretly, his Uncle + Socrates sympathized with him, and relished the thought that his nephew, + who so strongly resembled him in mind and person, should be the undisputed + boss—to use a word common in political circles—of the school. + He discreetly ignored the conflicts which he knew took place, and if any + luckless boy, the victim of Jim’s brutality, ventured to appeal to him, + the boy soon found that he himself was arraigned, and not the one who had + abused him. + </p> + <p> + “Where’s that new boy?” asked Jim, as he left the schoolroom. + </p> + <p> + He had not seen our hero’s departure—but his ready tool, Bates, had. + </p> + <p> + “I saw him sneaking off with Wilkins,” said Bates. + </p> + <p> + “Where did they go?” + </p> + <p> + “To the Village, I guess.” + </p> + <p> + “They seemed to be in a hurry,” said Jim, with a sneer. + </p> + <p> + “They wanted to get out of your way—that is, the new boy did,” + suggested Bates. + </p> + <p> + Jim nodded. + </p> + <p> + “Likely he did,” he answered. “So he went to the village, did he?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; I saw him.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, he’s put it off a little. That boy’s cranky. I’m goin’ to give him + a lesson he won’t forget very soon.” + </p> + <p> + “So you will, so you will, Jim,” chuckled Bates. + </p> + <p> + “That’s the way I generally take down these boys that put on airs,” said + Jim, complacently. “This Roscoe’s the worst case I’ve had yet. So Wilkins + went off with him, did he?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; I saw them go off together.” + </p> + <p> + “I’ll have to give Wilkins a little reminder, then. It won’t be safe to + take up with them that defy me. I’ll just give him a kick to help his + memory.” + </p> + <p> + “He won’t like that much, oh, my!” chuckled Bates. + </p> + <p> + “When you see them coming, Bates, go and tell Roscoe I want to see him,” + said Jim, with the air of an autocrat. + </p> + <p> + “All right, Jim,” said Bates, obediently. + </p> + <p> + So he went on his errand, and we know what success he met with. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XII. THE IMPENDING CONFLICT. + </h2> + <p> + Jim Smith stood leaning indolently against a post, when his emissary, + Bates, returned from his errand. He was experiencing “that stern joy” + which bullies feel just before an encounter with a foeman inferior in + strength, whom they expect easily to master. Several of the boys were near + by—sycophantic followers of Jim, who were enjoying in advance the + rumpus they expected. I am afraid schoolboys do not always sympathize with + the weaker side. In the present instance, there was hardly a boy who had + not at some time or other felt the weight of Jim’s fist, and, as there is + an old saying that “misery loves company,” it was not, perhaps, a matter + of wonder that they looked forward with interest to seeing another suffer + the same ill-treatment which they had on former occasions received! + </p> + <p> + Presently Bates came back. + </p> + <p> + Jim looked over his head for the boy whom he expected to see in his + company. + </p> + <p> + “Where’s the new boy?” he demanded, with a frown. + </p> + <p> + “He won’t come.” + </p> + <p> + “Won’t come?” repeated Jim, with an ominous frown. “Did you tell him I + wanted him?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I did.” + </p> + <p> + “And what did he say?” + </p> + <p> + “That if you wanted to see him, you could come to him.” + </p> + <p> + All the boys regarded each other with looks of surprise. Was it possible + that any boy in Smith Institute could have the boldness to send such a + message to Jim! Most of all, Jim was moved by such a bold defiance of his + authority. For the moment, he could not think of any adequate terms in + which to express his feelings. + </p> + <p> + “Did the new boy say that?” he asked, hoarsely. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he did.” + </p> + <p> + Jim nodded his head vigorously two or three times. + </p> + <p> + “You fellows,” he said, appealing to the boys around him, “did you ever + hear such impudence?” + </p> + <p> + “No!” “Never!” exclaimed the boys in concert, Bates being the loudest and + most emphatic. + </p> + <p> + “I have never been so insulted since I was at the institute,” said Jim, + again looking about him for a confirmation of his statement. + </p> + <p> + “It’s because he’s a new boy. He don’t understand,” suggested one. + </p> + <p> + “That’s no excuse,” said Jim, sternly. “He needn’t think I’ll let him off + on that account.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course not,” answered Bates. + </p> + <p> + “What would you advise me to do, boys?” asked Jim, with the air of a + monarch asking the opinion of his counselors. + </p> + <p> + “Thrash him till he can’t stand!” said the subservient Bates. He was + always ready to go farther than anyone else in supporting and defending + the authority of the tyrant of the playground. + </p> + <p> + “Bates, you are right. I shall follow your advice,” said Jim. “Where is + the young reprobate?” + </p> + <p> + “He is over in Carver’s field.” + </p> + <p> + “Is anyone with him?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Wilkins.” + </p> + <p> + “Ha! Wilkins and I will have an account to settle. If he is going to side + with this young rascal he must take the consequences. So, he’s over in the + field, is he? What’s he doing?” + </p> + <p> + “I think he was going to walk down to the brook.” + </p> + <p> + Carver’s field was a tract, several acres in extent, of pasture land, + sloping down to one corner, where a brook trickled along quietly. Here + three large trees were located, under whose spreading branches the boys, + in the intervals of study, used often to stretch themselves for a chat or + engage in some schoolboy games, such as nimble peg or quoits. The owner of + the field was an easy-going man, who did not appear to be troubled by the + visits of the boys, as long as they did not maltreat the peaceful cows who + gathered their subsistence from the scanty grass that grew there. + </p> + <p> + “He wants to keep out of your way, I guess,” volunteered Bates. + </p> + <p> + As this suggestion was flattering to the pride of the “boss,” it was + graciously received. + </p> + <p> + “Very likely,” he said; “but he’ll find that isn’t so easy. Boys, follow + me, if you want to see some fun.” + </p> + <p> + Jim started with his loose stride for the field, where he expected to meet + his adversary, or, rather, victim, for so he considered him, and the + smaller boys followed him with alacrity. There was going to be a + scrimmage, and they all wanted to see it. + </p> + <p> + Jim and his followers issued from the gate, and, crossing the street, + scaled the bars that separated Carver’s field from the highway. Already + they could see the two boys—Roscoe and Wilkins-slowly walking, and + nearly arrived at the brook in the lower part of the field. + </p> + <p> + “He doesn’t seem much afraid,” remarked Talbot, one of the recent comers, + incautiously. + </p> + <p> + Upon him immediately Jim frowned ominously. + </p> + <p> + “So you are taking sides with him, Talbot, are you?” he said, imperiously. + </p> + <p> + “No, Jim,” answered Talbot, hurriedly, for he now saw that he had been + guilty of an imprudence. + </p> + <p> + “What made you say he wasn’t scared, then?” + </p> + <p> + “I only said he didn’t seem afraid,” answered Talbot, apologetically. + </p> + <p> + “Be careful what you say in future, young fellow!” said Jim, sternly; + “that is, if you are a friend of mine. If you are going over to Roscoe, + you can go, and I shall know how to treat you.” + </p> + <p> + “But I am not going over to him. I don’t like him,” said the cowardly boy. + </p> + <p> + “Very well; I accept your apology this time. In future be careful what you + say.” + </p> + <p> + By this time Wilkins and Roscoe had reached the clump of big trees, and + had seated themselves under their ample branches. Then, for the first + time, glancing backward toward the school, they became aware of the + advancing troop of boys. Wilkins saw them first. + </p> + <p> + “There’s Jim coming!” he exclaimed. “Now you are in a pickle. He means + business.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose,” said Hector, coolly, “he has decided to accept my invitation, + and come to see me.” + </p> + <p> + “You’ll find he has,” said Wilkins, significantly. + </p> + <p> + “He seems to have considerable company,” remarked Hector, scanning the + approaching party with tranquillity. + </p> + <p> + “They’re coming to see the fun!” said Wilkins. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose you mean the fight between Jim Smith and myself.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, not exactly. They’ve come to see you thrashed.” + </p> + <p> + Hector smiled. + </p> + <p> + “Suppose they should see Jim thrashed instead—what then?” + </p> + <p> + “They might be surprised: but I don’t think they will be,” answered + Wilkins, dryly. He was, on the whole, well disposed toward Hector, and he + certainly disliked Jim heartily, but he did not allow his judgment to be + swayed by his preferences, and he could foresee but one issue to the + impending conflict. There was one thing that puzzled him exceedingly, and + that was Hector’s coolness on the brink of a severe thrashing, such as Jim + was sure to give him for his daring defiance and disregard of his + authority. + </p> + <p> + “You’re a queer boy, Hector,” he said. “You don’t seem in the least + alarmed.” + </p> + <p> + “I am not in the least alarmed,” answered Hector. “Why should I be?” + </p> + <p> + “You don’t mind being thrashed, then?” + </p> + <p> + “I might mind; but I don’t mean to be thrashed if I can help it.” + </p> + <p> + “But you can’t help it, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, that will soon be decided.” + </p> + <p> + There was no time for any further conversation, for Jim and his followers + were close at hand. + </p> + <p> + Jim opened the campaign by calling Hector to account. + </p> + <p> + “Look here, you new boy,” he said, “didn’t Bates tell you that I wanted to + see you?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” answered Hector, looking up, indifferently. + </p> + <p> + “Well, why didn’t you come to me at once, hey?” + </p> + <p> + “Because I didn’t choose to. I sent word if you wished to see me, to come + where I was.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean by such impudence, hey?” + </p> + <p> + “I mean this, Jim Smith, that you have no authority over me and never will + have. I have not been here long, but I have been here long enough to find + out that you are a cowardly bully and ruffian. How all these boys can give + in to you, I can’t understand.” + </p> + <p> + Jim Smith almost foamed at the mouth with rage. + </p> + <p> + “You’ll pay for this,” he howled, pulling off his coat, in furious haste. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIII. WHO SHALL BE VICTOR? + </h2> + <p> + Hector was not slow to accept the challenge conveyed by his antagonist’s + action. He, too, sprang to his feet, flung off his coat, and stood facing + the bully. + </p> + <p> + Hector was three inches shorter, and more than as many years younger, than + Jim. But his figure was well proportioned and strongly put together, as + the boys could see. On the other hand; Jim Smith was loosely put together, + and, though tall, he was not well proportioned. His arms were long and his + movements were clumsy. His frame, however, was large, and he had + considerable strength, but it had never been disciplined. He had never + learned to box, and was ignorant of the first rudiments of the art of + self-defense. But he was larger and stronger than any of his + school-fellows, and he had thus far had no difficulty in overcoming + opposition to his despotic rule. + </p> + <p> + The boys regarded the two combatants with intense interest. They could see + that Hector was not alarmed, and meant to defend himself. So there was + likely to be a contest, although they could not but anticipate an easy + victory for the hitherto champion of the school. + </p> + <p> + Hector did not propose to make the attack. He walked forward to a + favorable place and took his stand. The position he assumed would have + assured the casual observer that he knew something of the art in which his + larger antagonist was deficient. + </p> + <p> + “So you are ready to fight, are you?” said Jim. + </p> + <p> + “You can see for yourself.” + </p> + <p> + Jim rushed forward, intending to bear down all opposition. He was whirling + his long arms awkwardly, and it was clear to see that he intended to seize + Hector about the body and fling him to the earth. Had he managed to secure + the grip he desired, opposition would have been vain, and he would have + compassed his design. But Hector was far too wary to allow anything of + this kind. He evaded Jim’s grasp by jumping backward, then dashing forward + while his opponent was somewhat unsteady from the failure of his attempt, + he dealt him a powerful blow in the face. + </p> + <p> + Jim Smith was unprepared for such prompt action. He reeled, and came near + falling. It may safely be said, also, that his astonishment was as great + as his indignation, and that was unbounded. + </p> + <p> + “So that’s your game, is it?” he exclaimed, furiously. “I’ll pay you for + this, see if I don’t.” + </p> + <p> + Hector did not reply. He did not propose to carry on the battle by words. + Already the matter had come to a sterner arbitrament, and he stood on the + alert, all his senses under absolute control, watching his big antagonist, + and, from the expression of his face, seeking to divine his next mode of + attack. He had this advantage over Jim, that he was cool and collected, + while Jim was angry and rendered imprudent by his anger. Notwithstanding + his first repulse, he did not fully understand that the new boy was a much + more formidable opponent than he anticipated. Nor did he appreciate the + advantage which science gives over brute force. He, therefore, rushed + forward again, with the same impetuosity as before, and was received in + precisely the same way. This time the blood started from his nose and + coursed over his inflamed countenance, while Hector was still absolutely + unhurt. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile the boys looked on in decided amazement. It had been as far as + possible from their thoughts that Hector could stand up successfully + against the bully even for an instant. Yet here two attacks had been made, + and the champion was decidedly worsted. They could not believe the + testimony of their eyes. + </p> + <p> + Carried away by the excitement of the moment, Wilkins, who, as we have + said, was disposed to espouse the side of Hector, broke into a shout of + encouragement. + </p> + <p> + “Good boy, Roscoe!” he exclaimed. “You’re doing well!” + </p> + <p> + Two or three of the other boys, those who were least under the domination + of Jim, and were only waiting for an opportunity of breaking away from + their allegiance, echoed the words of Wilkins. If there was anything that + could increase the anger and mortification of the tyrant it was these + signs of failing allegiance. What! was he to lose his hold over these + boys, and that because he was unable to cope with a boy much smaller and + younger than himself? Perish the thought! It nerved him to desperation, + and he prepared for a still more impetuous assault. + </p> + <p> + Somewhere in his Greek reader, Hector had met with a saying attributed to + Pindar, that “boldness is the beginning of victory.” He felt that the time + had now come for a decisive stroke. He did not content himself, therefore, + with parrying, or simply repelling the blow of his antagonist, but he on + his part assumed the offensive. He dealt his blows with bewildering + rapidity, pressed upon Jim, skillfully evading the grasp of his long arms, + and in a trice the champion measured his length upon the greensward. + </p> + <p> + Of course, he did not remain there. He sprang to his feet, and renewed the + attack. But he had lost his confidence. He was bewildered, and, to confess + the truth, panic-stricken, and the second skirmish was briefer than the + first. + </p> + <p> + When, for the third time, he fell back, with his young opponent standing + erect and vigorous, the enthusiasm of the boys overcame the limits of + prudence. There was a shout of approval, and the fallen champion, to add + to his discomfiture, was forced to listen to his own hitherto subservient + followers shouting, “Hurrah for the new boy! Hurrah for Hector Roscoe!” + </p> + <p> + This was too much for Jim. + </p> + <p> + He rose from the ground sullenly, looked about him with indignation which + he could not control, and, shaking his fist, not at one boy in particular, + but at the whole company, exclaimed: “You’ll be sorry for this, you + fellows! You can leave me, and stand by the new boy if you want to, but + you’ll be sorry for it. I’ll thrash you one by one, as I have often done + before.” + </p> + <p> + “Try Roscoe first!” said one boy, jeeringly. + </p> + <p> + “I’ll try you first!” said Jim; and too angry to postpone his intention, + he made a rush for the offender. + </p> + <p> + The latter, who knew he was no match for the angry bully, turned and fled. + Jim prepared to follow him, when he was brought to by Hector placing + himself in his path. + </p> + <p> + “Let that boy alone!” he said, sternly. + </p> + <p> + “What business is it of yours?” demanded Jim, doggedly; but he did not + offer to renew the attack, however. + </p> + <p> + “It will be my business to put an end to your tyranny and bullying,” said + Hector, undauntedly. “If you dare to touch one of these boys, you will + have to meet me as well.” + </p> + <p> + Jim had had enough of encountering Hector. He did not care to make a + humiliating spectacle of himself any more before his old flatterers. But + his resources were not at an end. + </p> + <p> + “You think yourself mighty smart!” he said, with what was intended to be + withering sarcasm. “You haven’t got through with me yet.” + </p> + <p> + He did not, however, offer to pursue the boy who had been the first to + break away from his allegiance. He put on his coat, and turned to walk + toward the school, saying, “You’ll hear from me again, and that pretty + soon!” + </p> + <p> + None of his late followers offered to accompany him. He had come to the + contest with a band of friends and supporters. He left it alone. Even + Bates, his most devoted adherent, remained behind, and did not offer to + accompany the discrowned and dethroned monarch. + </p> + <p> + “What’s Jim going to do?” asked Talbot. + </p> + <p> + “He’s going to tell old Sock, and get us all into trouble.” + </p> + <p> + “It’ll be a cowardly thing to do!” said Wilkins. “He’s been fairly beaten + in battle, and he ought to submit to it.” + </p> + <p> + “He won’t if he can help it.” + </p> + <p> + “I say, boys, three cheers for the new boy!” exclaimed Wilkins. + </p> + <p> + They were given with a will, and the boys pressed forward to shake the + hand of the boy whose prowess they admired. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, boys!” said Hector, “but I’d rather be congratulated on + something else. I would rather be a good scholar than a good fighter.” + </p> + <p> + But the boys were evidently of a different opinion, and elevated Hector + straightway to the rank of a hero. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIV. SOCRATES CALLS HECTOR TO ACCOUNT. + </h2> + <p> + Jim Smith, as he walked back to the institute, nursing his wrath, felt + very much like a dethroned king. He was very anxious to be revenged upon + Hector, but the lesson he had received made him cautious. He must get him + into trouble by some means. Should he complain to his uncle? It would + involve the necessity of admitting his defeat, unless he could gloss over + the story in some way. + </p> + <p> + This he decided to do. + </p> + <p> + On reaching the school he sought his dormitory, and carefully wiped away + the blood from his face. Then he combed his hair and arranged his dress, + and sought his uncle. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Smith was at his desk, looking over his accounts, and estimating the + profits of the half year, when his nephew made his appearance. + </p> + <p> + “Uncle Socrates, I’d like to speak to you.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, James. Proceed.” + </p> + <p> + “I want to complain of the new boy who came this morning.” + </p> + <p> + Socrates Smith looked up in genuine surprise. As a general thing, his + nephew brought few complaints, for he took the responsibility of punishing + boys he did not like himself. + </p> + <p> + “What! Roscoe?” inquired the principal. + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Is he in any mischief?” + </p> + <p> + “Mischief? I should say so! Why, he’s a regular young Turk.” + </p> + <p> + “A young Turk? I don’t think I understand you, James.” + </p> + <p> + “I mean, he’s a young ruffian.” + </p> + <p> + “What has he been doing?” asked Socrates, in surprise. + </p> + <p> + “He pitched into me a short time ago,” said Jim, in some embarrassment. + </p> + <p> + “Pitched into you! You don’t mean to say that he attacked you?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I do.” + </p> + <p> + “But he’s a considerably smaller boy than you, James. I am surprised that + he should have dared to attack you.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he is small, but he’s a regular fighter.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose you gave him a lesson?” + </p> + <p> + “Ye-es, of course.” + </p> + <p> + “So that he won’t be very likely to renew the attack.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I don’t know about that. He’s tough and wiry, and understands + boxing. I found it hard work to thrash him.” + </p> + <p> + “But you did thrash him?” said Socrates, puzzled. + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Then what do you want me to do?” + </p> + <p> + “I thought you might punish him for being quarrelsome.” + </p> + <p> + “It may be a good idea. I remember now that his uncle warned me that he + would need restraining.” + </p> + <p> + “Just so, uncle,” said Jim, eagerly. “His uncle was right.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I will give him a lecture. He will find that he cannot behave as he + pleases at Smith Institute,” said Socrates, pompously. “He will find that + I do not tolerate any defiance of authority. I will speak of it after + vespers.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, uncle.” + </p> + <p> + “He’ll get a raking down!” thought Jim, with gratification. “I’ll make it + hot for him here, he may be sure of that.” + </p> + <p> + Half an hour after supper was read a brief evening service called vespers, + and then the boys’ study hours commenced. During this time they were + expected to be preparing their lessons for the next day. + </p> + <p> + The service was generally read by Socrates Smith, A. M., in person. It was + one of the few official duties he performed, and he was generally very + imposing in his manner on this occasion. + </p> + <p> + When the service had been read on that particular evening, the principal + did not immediately give the signal for study to be commenced. Instead, he + cleared his throat, saying: + </p> + <p> + “Boys, I have a few words to say to you. This morning a new boy made his + appearance among us. His uncle, or perhaps I should say his guardian, + attracted by the well-deserved fame of Smith Institute, came hither to + enter him among my pupils. I received him cordially, and promised that he + should share with you the rich, the inestimable educational advantages + which our humble seminary affords. I hoped he would be an acquisition, + that by his obedience and his fidelity to duty he would shed luster on our + school.” + </p> + <p> + Here Socrates blew his nose sonorously, and resumed: + </p> + <p> + “But what has happened? On the very first day of his residence here he + brutally assaults one of our numbers, my nephew, and displays the savage + instincts of a barbarian. His uncle did well to warn me that he would need + salutary restraint.” + </p> + <p> + Hector, who had been amused by the solemn and impressive remarks of + Socrates, looked up in surprise. Had Allan Roscoe really traduced him in + this manner, after robbing him of his inheritance, as Hector felt + convinced that he had done? + </p> + <p> + “Hector Roscoe!” said Socrates, severely; “stand up, and let me hear what + you have to say for yourself.” + </p> + <p> + Hector rose calmly, and faced the principal, by no means awe-stricken at + the grave arraignment to which he had listened. + </p> + <p> + “I say this, Mr. Smith,” he answered, “that I did not attack your nephew + till he had first attacked me. This he did without the slightest + provocation, and I defended myself, as I had a right to do.” + </p> + <p> + “It’s a lie!” muttered Jim, in a tone audible to his uncle. + </p> + <p> + “My nephew’s report is of a different character. I am disposed to believe + him.” + </p> + <p> + “I regret to say, sir, that he has made a false statement. I will give you + an account of what actually occurred. On my return from a walk he sent a + boy summoning me to his presence. As he was not a teacher, and had no more + authority over me than I over him, I declined to obey, but sent word that + if he wished to see me he could come where I was. I then walked down to + the brook in Carver’s field. He followed me, as soon as he had received my + message, and, charging me with impertinence, challenged me to a fight. + Well, we had a fight; but he attacked me first.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know whether this account is correct or not,” said Socrates, a + little nonplused by this new version of the affair. + </p> + <p> + “I am ready to accept the decision of any one of the boys,” said Hector. + </p> + <p> + “Bates,” said Socrates, who knew that this boy was an adherent of his + nephew, “is this account of Roscoe’s true?” + </p> + <p> + Bates hesitated a moment. He was still afraid of Jim, but when he thought + of Hector’s prowess, he concluded that he had better tell the truth. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,” he answered. + </p> + <p> + Jim Smith darted an angry and menacing glance at his failing adherent. + </p> + <p> + “Ahem!” said Socrates, looking puzzled: “it is not quite so bad as I + supposed. I regret, however, that you have exhibited such a quarrelsome + disposition.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t think I am quarrelsome, sir,” said Hector. + </p> + <p> + “Silence, sir! I have Mr. Allan Roscoe’s word for it.” + </p> + <p> + “It appears to me,” said Hector, undauntedly, “that your nephew is at + least as quarrelsome as I am. He forced the fight upon me.” + </p> + <p> + “Probably you will not be in a hurry to attack him again,” said Socrates, + under the impression that Hector had got the worst of it. + </p> + <p> + Some of the boys smiled, but Socrates did not see it. + </p> + <p> + “As you have probably received a lesson, I will not punish you as I had + anticipated. I will sentence you, however, to commit to memory the first + fifty lines of Virgil’s ‘AEneid.’ Mr. Crabb, will you see that Roscoe + performs his penance?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,” said Crabb, faintly. + </p> + <p> + “Is your nephew also to perform a penance?” asked Hector, undaunted. + </p> + <p> + “Silence, sir! What right have you to question me on this subject?” + </p> + <p> + “Because, sir, he is more to blame than I.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know that. I am not at all sure that your story is correct.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crabb, meek as he was, was indignant at this flagrant partiality. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Smith,” he said, “I happen to know that Roscoe’s story is strictly + correct, and that your nephew made an unprovoked attack upon him.” + </p> + <p> + Hector looked grateful, and Jim Smith furious. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Crabb,” said Socrates, angrily, “I did not ask your opinion. So far + as my nephew is concerned, I will deal with him privately. Boys, you may + begin your studies.” + </p> + <p> + All the boys understood that Jim was to be let off, and they thought it a + shame. But Mr. Crabb took care to make Hector’s penance as light as + possible. + </p> + <p> + And thus passed the first day at Smith Institute. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XV. THE USHER CONFIDES IN HECTOR. + </h2> + <p> + Mr. Crabb acted rashly in siding with Hector, and speaking against Mr. + Smith’s nephew. Socrates showed his displeasure by a frigid demeanor, and + by seeking occasions for snubbing his assistant. On the other hand, Hector + felt grateful for his intercession, and an intimacy sprang up between + them. + </p> + <p> + A few days afterward, on a half holiday, Mr. Crabb said: “Roscoe, I am + going out for a walk. Do you care to accompany me?” + </p> + <p> + “I will do so with pleasure,” said Hector, sincerely. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Crabb,” he said, after they were fairly on their way, “I am sorry to + see that Mr. Smith has not forgiven you for taking my part against Jim.” + </p> + <p> + “I would do it again, Roscoe,” said the usher. “I could not sit silent + while so great an injustice was being done.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you think Jim was punished?” + </p> + <p> + “I am sure he was not. He is a boy after Mr. Smith’s own heart, that is, + he possesses the same mean and disagreeable qualities, perhaps in a + greater degree. Has he interfered with you since?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” answered Hector, smiling; “he probably found that I object to being + bullied.” + </p> + <p> + “You are fortunate in being strong enough to withstand his attacks.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Hector, quietly; “I am not afraid of him.” + </p> + <p> + “Bullies are generally cowards,” said the usher. + </p> + <p> + “I wonder, Mr. Crabb, you are willing to stay at Smith Institute, as usher + to such a man as Mr. Smith.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, Roscoe!” said Mr. Crabb, sighing; “it is not of my own free will that + I stay. Poverty is a hard task-master. I must teach for a living.” + </p> + <p> + “But surely you could get a better position?” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps so; but how could I live while I was seeking for it. My lad,” he + said, after a pause, “I have a great mind to confide in you; I want one + friend to whom I can talk unreservedly.” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Crabb,” said Hector, earnestly, “I shall feel flattered by your + confidence.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Roscoe; or, rather, since we are going to be friends, let me + distinguish you from the other boys and call you Hector.” + </p> + <p> + “I wish you would, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “I need not tell you that I am poor,” continued Mr. Crabb; “you can read + it in my shabby clothes. I sometimes see the boys looking at my poor suit, + as if they wondered why I dressed so badly. Smith has more than once cast + insulting looks at my rusty coat. It is not penuriousness, as some of the + boys may think—it is poverty that prevents me from attiring myself + more becomingly.” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Crabb, I sympathize with you,” said Hector. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Hector. Of that I am sure.” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Smith ought to pay you enough to clothe yourself neatly. He makes you + work hard enough.” + </p> + <p> + “He pays me twenty dollars a month,” said the usher; “twenty dollars and + my board.” + </p> + <p> + “Is that all?” asked Hector, in amazement. “Why, the girl in the kitchen + earns nearly that.” + </p> + <p> + “To be sure,” answered the usher, bitterly; “but in Mr. Smith’s + estimation, I stand very little higher. He does not value education, not + possessing it himself. However, you may wonder why, even with this sum, I + cannot dress better. It is because I have another than myself to support.” + </p> + <p> + “You are not married?” asked Hector, in surprise. + </p> + <p> + “No; but I have an invalid sister, who is wholly dependent upon me. To her + I devote three-quarters of my salary, and this leaves me very little for + myself. My poor sister is quite unable to earn anything for herself, so it + is a matter of necessity.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I understand,” said Hector, in a tone of sympathy. + </p> + <p> + “You now see why I do not dare to leave this position, poor as it is. For + myself, I might take the risk, but I should not feel justified in exposing + my sister to the hazard of possible want.” + </p> + <p> + “You are right, Mr. Crabb. I am very sorry now that you spoke up for me. + It has prejudiced Mr. Smith against you.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no; I won’t regret that. Indeed, he would hesitate to turn me adrift, + for he would not be sure of getting another teacher to take my place for + the same beggarly salary.” + </p> + <p> + “Something may turn up for you yet, Mr. Crabb,” said Hector, hopefully. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps so,” answered the usher, but his tone was far from sanguine. + </p> + <p> + When they returned to the school, Hector carried out a plan which had + suggested itself to him in the interest of Mr. Crabb. He wrote to a boy of + his acquaintance, living in New York, who, he had heard, was in want of a + private tutor, and recommended Mr. Crabb, in strong terms, for that + position. He did this sincerely, for he had found the usher to be a good + teacher, and well versed in the studies preparatory to college. He did not + think it best to mention this to Mr. Crabb, for the answer might be + unfavorable, and then his hopes would have been raised only to be dashed + to the earth. + </p> + <p> + Later in the day, Hector fell in with Bates, already referred to as a + special friend of Jim Smith. The intimacy, however, had been diminished + since the contest in which Hector gained the victory. Bates was not quite + so subservient to the fallen champion, and Jim resented it. + </p> + <p> + “I saw you walking out with old Crabb,” said Bates. + </p> + <p> + “He isn’t particularly old,” said Hector. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you know what I mean. Did you ever see such a scarecrow?” + </p> + <p> + “Do you refer to his dress?” asked Hector. + </p> + <p> + “Yes; he’ll soon be in rags. I shouldn’t wonder at all if that old suit of + his was worn by one of Noah’s sons in the ark.” + </p> + <p> + “You don’t suppose he wears it from choice, do you?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know. He’s stingy, I suppose—afraid to spend a cent.” + </p> + <p> + “You are mistaken. He has a sister to support, and his salary is very + small.” + </p> + <p> + “I can believe that. Old Sock is mean with his teachers. How much does he + pay Crabb?” + </p> + <p> + “It is very little, but I don’t know that I ought to tell.” + </p> + <p> + “I say, though, Roscoe, I wouldn’t go to walk with him again.” + </p> + <p> + “Why not?” + </p> + <p> + “The boys will say that, you are trying to get into his good graces, so + he’ll let you off easy in your lessons.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t want him to let me off easy; I generally intend to be prepared.” + </p> + <p> + “I know, but that’s what they will say.” + </p> + <p> + “Let them say what they please, and I will do what I please,” said Hector, + independently. + </p> + <p> + “Old Sock ain’t any too fond of Crabb since he took your part the other + day. Jim says the old man means to bounce him before long.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose that means discharge him.” + </p> + <p> + “It means giving him his walking papers. Jim will see that he does it, + too.” + </p> + <p> + Hector did not reply, but he felt more than ever glad that he had written + a letter which might possibly bring the poor usher more profitable and, at + the same time, agreeable employment. + </p> + <p> + “Jim doesn’t like you, either,” added Bates. + </p> + <p> + “I never supposed he did. I can do without his favor.” + </p> + <p> + “He will get you into a scrape if he can.” + </p> + <p> + “I have no doubt whatever of his benevolent intentions toward me. I shall + not let it interfere with my happiness.” + </p> + <p> + Just then a sharp cry was heard, as of a boy in pain. It came from the + school yard, which the two boys were approaching on their return from a + walk. + </p> + <p> + “What’s that?” asked Hector, quickly. + </p> + <p> + “I expect it’s the new boy.” + </p> + <p> + One had arrived the day before. + </p> + <p> + “Is he hurt, I wonder?” asked Hector, quickening his steps. + </p> + <p> + “Jim’s got hold of him, probably,” said Bates; “he said this morning he + was going to give the little chap a lesson to break him into school ways.” + </p> + <p> + “He did, did he?” said Hector, compressing his lips. “I shall have + something to say to that,” and he quickened his steps. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVI. TOSSED IN A BLANKET. + </h2> + <p> + The last new boy was a little fellow only eleven years old. His name was + Tommy Cooper, as he was called at home. It was his first absence from the + sheltering care of his mother, and he felt lonesome in the great, dreary + school building, where he was called “Cooper,” and “you little chap.” He + missed the atmosphere of home, and the tenderness of his mother and + sister. In fact, the poor boy was suffering from that most distressing + malady, homesickness. + </p> + <p> + Had Mrs. Socrates Smith been a kind, motherly woman, she might have done + much to reconcile the boy to his new home; but she was a tall, gaunt, bony + woman, more masculine than feminine, not unlike Miss Sally Brass, whom all + readers of Dickens will remember. + </p> + <p> + I am sorry to say that a homesick boy in a boarding school does not meet + with much sympathy. Even those boys who have once experienced the same + malady are half ashamed of it, and, if they remember it at all, remember + it as a mark of weakness. There was but one boy who made friendly + approaches to Tommy, and this was Hector Roscoe. + </p> + <p> + Hector had seen the little fellow sitting by himself with a sad face, and + he had gone up to him, and asked him in a pleasant tone some questions + about himself and his home. + </p> + <p> + “So you have never been away from home before, Tommy,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “No, sir,” answered the boy, timidly. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t call me sir. I am only a boy like you. Call me Hector.” + </p> + <p> + “That is a strange name. I never heard it before.” + </p> + <p> + “No, it is not a common name. I suppose you don’t like school very much?” + </p> + <p> + “I never shall be happy here,” sighed Tommy. + </p> + <p> + “You think so now, but you will get used to it.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t think I shall.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, you will. It will never seem like home, of course, but you will + get acquainted with some of the boys, and will join in their games, and + then time will pass more pleasantly.” + </p> + <p> + “I think the boys are very rough,” said the little boy. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, they are rough, but they don’t mean unkindly. Some of them were + homesick when they came here, just like you.” + </p> + <p> + “Were you homesick?” asked Tommy, looking up, with interest. + </p> + <p> + “I didn’t like the school very well; but I was much older than you when I + came here, and, besides, I didn’t leave behind me so pleasant a home. I am + not so rich as you, Tommy. I have no father nor mother,” and for the + moment Hector, too, looked sad. + </p> + <p> + The little fellow became more cheerful under the influence of Hector’s + kind and sympathetic words. Our hero, however, was catechised about his + sudden intimacy with the new scholar. + </p> + <p> + “I see you’ve got a new situation, Roscoe,” said Bates, when Hector was + walking away. + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “You’ve secured the position of nurse to that little cry baby.” + </p> + <p> + “You mean Tommy Cooper?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, if that’s his name.” + </p> + <p> + “I was cheering up the little fellow a bit. He’s made rather a bad + exchange in leaving a happy home for Smith Institute.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s so. This is a dreary hole, but there’s no need of crying about + it.” + </p> + <p> + “You might if you were as young as Tommy, and had just come.” + </p> + <p> + “Shall you take him under your wing?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, if he needs it.” + </p> + <p> + We now come to the few minutes preceding the return of Hector from his + walk, as indicated in the last chapter. + </p> + <p> + Tommy Cooper was sitting in the school yard, with a disconsolate look, + when Jim Smith, who was never happier than when he was bullying other + boys, espied him. + </p> + <p> + “What’s the matter with you, young one?” he said, roughly, “Is your + grandmother dead?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” answered Tommy, briefly. + </p> + <p> + “Come here and play.” + </p> + <p> + “I would rather not.” + </p> + <p> + “I am not going to have you sulking round here. Do you hear me?” + </p> + <p> + “Are you one of the teachers?” asked Tommy, innocently. + </p> + <p> + “You’ll find out who I am,” answered Jim, roughly. “Here, Palmer, do you + want a little fun with this young one?” + </p> + <p> + Palmer and Bates were Jim Smith’s most devoted adherents. + </p> + <p> + “What are you going to do, Jim?” questioned Palmer. + </p> + <p> + “I’m going to stir him up a little,” said Jim, with a malicious smile. “Go + and get a blanket.” + </p> + <p> + “All right!” said Palmer. + </p> + <p> + “We’ll toss him in a blanket. He won’t look so sulky after we get through + with him.” + </p> + <p> + There were two or three other boys standing by, who heard these words. + </p> + <p> + “It’s a shame!” said one, in a low voice. “See the poor little chap, how + sad he looks! I felt just as he does when I first came to school.” + </p> + <p> + “Jim ought not to do it,” said the second. “It’s a mean thing to do.” + </p> + <p> + “Tell him so.” + </p> + <p> + “No, thank you. He’d treat me the same way.” + </p> + <p> + The two speakers were among the smaller boys, neither being over fourteen, + and though they sympathized with Tommy, their sympathy was not likely to + do him any good. + </p> + <p> + Out came Palmer with the blanket. + </p> + <p> + “Are there any teachers about?” asked Jim. + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s good. We shan’t be interfered with. Here, young one, come here.” + </p> + <p> + “What for?” asked Tommy, looking frightened. + </p> + <p> + “Come here, and you’ll find out.” + </p> + <p> + But Tommy had already guessed. He had read a story of English school life, + in which a boy had been tossed in a blanket, and he was not slow in + comprehending the situation. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, don’t toss me in a blanket!” said the poor boy, clasping his hands. + </p> + <p> + “Sorry to disturb you, but it’s got to be done, young one,” said Jim. + “Here, jump in. It’ll do you good.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, don’t!” sobbed the poor boy. “It’ll hurt me.” + </p> + <p> + “No, it won’t! Don’t be a cry baby. We’ll make a man of you.” + </p> + <p> + But Tommy was not persuaded. He jumped up, and tried to make his escape. + But, of course, there was no chance for him. Jim Smith overtook him in a + couple of strides, and seizing him roughly by the collar, dragged him to + the blanket, which by this time Palmer and one of the other boys, who had + been impressed into the service reluctantly, were holding. + </p> + <p> + Jim Smith, taking up Tommy bodily, threw him into the blanket, and then + seizing one end, gave it a violent toss. Up went the boy into the air, and + tumbling back again into the blanket was raised again. + </p> + <p> + “Raise him, boys!” shouted Jim. “Give him a hoist!” + </p> + <p> + Then it was that Tommy screamed, and Hector heard his cry for help. + </p> + <p> + He came rushing round the corner of the building, and comprehended, at a + glance, what was going on. + </p> + <p> + Naturally his hot indignation was much stirred. + </p> + <p> + “For shame, you brutes!” he cried. “Stop that!” + </p> + <p> + If there was anyone whom Jim Smith did not want to see at this moment, it + was Hector Roscoe. He would much rather have seen one of the ushers. He + saw that he was in a scrape, but his pride would not allow him to back + out. + </p> + <p> + “Keep on, boys!” he cried. “It’s none of Roscoe’s business. He’d better + clear out, or we’ll toss him.” + </p> + <p> + As he spoke he gave another toss. + </p> + <p> + “Save me, Hector!” cried Tommy, espying his friend’s arrival with joy. + </p> + <p> + Hector was not the boy to let such an appeal go unheeded. He sprang + forward, dealt Jim Smith a powerful blow, that made him stagger, and let + go the blanket, and then helped Tommy to his feet. + </p> + <p> + “Run into the house. Tommy!” he said. “There may be some rough work here.” + </p> + <p> + He faced round just in time to fend off partially a blow from the angry + bully. + </p> + <p> + “Take that for your impudence!” shouted Jim Smith. “I’ll teach you to + meddle with, me.” + </p> + <p> + But Jim reckoned without his host. The blow was returned with interest, + and, in the heat of his indignation, Hector followed it up with such a + volley that the bully retreated in discomfiture, and was glad to withdraw + from the contest. + </p> + <p> + “I’ll pay you for this, you scoundrel!” he said, venomously. + </p> + <p> + “Whenever you please, you big brute!” returned Hector, contemptuously. “It + is just like you to tease small boys. If you annoy Tommy Cooper again, + you’ll hear from me.” + </p> + <p> + “I’d like to choke that fellow!” muttered Jim. “Either he or I will have + to leave this school.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVII. JIM SMITH’S REVENGE. + </h2> + <p> + It would be natural to suppose that Jim Smith, relying upon his influence + with his uncle, would have reported this last “outrage,” as he chose to + consider it, to the principal, thus securing the punishment of Hector. But + he was crafty, and considered that no punishment Hector was likely to + receive would satisfy him. Corporal punishment for taking the part of an + ill-used boy, Hector was probably too spirited to submit to, and, under + these circumstances, it would hardly have been inflicted. Besides, Jim was + aware that the offense for which Hector had attacked him was not likely, + if made known, to secure sympathy. Even his uncle would be against him, + for he was fond of money, and had no wish to lose the new pupil, whose + friends were well able to pay for him. + </p> + <p> + No! He decided that what he wanted was to bring Hector into disgrace. The + method did not immediately occur to him, but after a while he saw his way + clear. + </p> + <p> + His uncle’s bedchamber was on the second floor, and Jim’s directly over it + on the third story. Some of the other boys, including Hector, had rooms + also on the third floor. + </p> + <p> + Jim was going upstairs one day when, through the door of his uncle’s + chamber, which chanced to be open, he saw a wallet lying on the bureau. On + the impulse of the moment, he walked in on tiptoes, secured the wallet, + and slipped it hurriedly into his pocket. Then he made all haste upstairs, + and bolted himself into his own room. Two other boys slept there, but both + were downstairs in the playground. + </p> + <p> + Jim took the wallet from his pocket and eagerly scanned the contents. + There were eight five-dollar bills and ten dollars in small bills, besides + a few papers, which may be accurately described as of no value to anyone + but the owner. + </p> + <p> + The boy’s face assumed a covetous look. He, as well as his uncle, was fond + of money—a taste which, unfortunately, as he regarded it, he was + unable to gratify. His family was poor, and he was received at half price + by Socrates Smith on the score of relationship, but his allowance of + pocket money was less than that of many of the small boys. He made up the + deficiency, in part, by compelling them to contribute to his pleasures. If + any boy purchased candy, or any other delicacy, Jim, if he learned the + fact, required him to give him a portion, just as the feudal lords exacted + tribute from their serfs and dependents. Still, this was not wholly + satisfactory, and Jim longed, instead, for a supply of money to spend as + he chose. + </p> + <p> + So the thought came to him, as he scanned the contents of the wallet: “Why + shouldn’t I take out one or two of these bills before disposing of it? No + one will lay it to me.” + </p> + <p> + The temptation proved too strong for Jim’s power of resistance. He + selected a five-dollar bill and five dollars in small bills, and + reluctantly replaced the rest of the money in the wallet. + </p> + <p> + “So far, so good!” he thought. “That’s a good idea.” + </p> + <p> + Then, unlocking the door, he passed along the entry till he came to the + room occupied by Hector. As he or one of the two boys who roomed with him + might be in the room, he looked first through the keyhole. + </p> + <p> + “The coast is clear!” he said to himself, in a tone of satisfaction. + </p> + <p> + Still, he opened the door cautiously, and stepped with catlike tread into + the room. Then he looked about the room. Hanging on nails were several + garments belonging to the inmates of the room. Jim selected a pair of + pants which he knew belonged to Hector, and hurrying forward, thrust the + wallet into one of the side pockets. Then, with a look of satisfaction, he + left the room, shutting the door carefully behind him. + </p> + <p> + “There,” he said to himself, with exultation. “That’ll fix him! Perhaps + he’ll wish he hadn’t put on quite so many airs.” + </p> + <p> + He was rather annoyed, as he walked along the corridor, back to his own + room, to encounter Wilkins. He had artfully chosen a time when he thought + all the boys would be out, and he heartily wished that some untoward + chance had not brought Wilkins in. + </p> + <p> + “Where are you going, Jim?” asked Wilkins. + </p> + <p> + “I went to Bates’ room, thinking he might be in, but he wasn’t.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you want him? I left him out on the playground.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it’s no matter! It’ll keep!” said Jim, indifferently. + </p> + <p> + “I got out of that pretty well!” he reflected complacently. + </p> + <p> + Perhaps Jim Smith would not have felt quite so complacent, if he had known + that at the time he entered Hector’s room it was occupied, though he could + not see the occupant. It so chanced that Ben Platt, one of Hector’s + roommates, was in the closet, concealed from the view of anyone entering + the room, yet so placed that he could see through the partially open door + what wras passing in the room. + </p> + <p> + When he saw Jim Smith enter he was surprised, for he knew that that young + man was not on visiting terms with the boy who had discomfited and + humiliated him. + </p> + <p> + “What on earth can Jim want?” he asked himself. + </p> + <p> + He did not have long to wait for an answer though not a real one; but + actions, as men have often heard, speak louder than words. + </p> + <p> + When he saw Jim steal up to Hector’s pants, and producing a wallet, + hastily thrust it into one of the pockets, he could hardly believe the + testimony of his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Well!” he ejaculated, inwardly, “I would not have believed it if I hadn’t + seen it. I knew Jim was a bully and a tyrant, but I didn’t think he was as + contemptible as all that.” + </p> + <p> + The wallet he recognized at once, for he had more than once seen Socrates + take it out of his pocket. + </p> + <p> + “It’s old Sock’s wallet!” he said to himself. “It’s clear that Jim has + taken it, and means to have it found in Roscoe’s possession. That’s as + mean a trick as I ever heard of.” + </p> + <p> + Just then Wilkins entered the room. Wilkins and Ben Platt were Hector’s + two roommates. + </p> + <p> + “Hello, Wilkins! I’m glad you’ve come just as you have.” + </p> + <p> + “What for, Platt? Do you want to borrow some money?” + </p> + <p> + “No; there is more money in this room now than there has been for a long + time.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean? The governor hasn’t sent you a remittance, has he?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “Expound your meaning, then, most learned and mysterious chum.” + </p> + <p> + “I will. Within five minutes Jim Smith has been here and left a wallet of + money.” + </p> + <p> + “Jim been here? I met him in the corridor.” + </p> + <p> + “I warrant he didn’t say he had been here.” + </p> + <p> + “No; he said he had been to Bates’ room, but didn’t find him there.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s all gammon! Wilkins, what will you say when I tell you that old + Sock’s wallet is in this very room!” + </p> + <p> + “I won’t believe it!” + </p> + <p> + “Look here, then!” + </p> + <p> + As he spoke, Ben went to Hector’s pants and drew out the wallet. + </p> + <p> + Wilkins started in surprise and dismay. + </p> + <p> + “How did Roscoe come by that?” he asked; “surely he didn’t take it?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course he didn’t. You might know Roscoe better. Didn’t you hear me say + just now that Jim brought it here?” + </p> + <p> + “And put it in Roscoe’s pocket?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “In your presence?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; only he didn’t know that I was present,” said Platt. + </p> + <p> + “Where were you?” + </p> + <p> + “In the closet. The door was partly open, and I saw everything.” + </p> + <p> + “What does it all mean?” + </p> + <p> + “Can’t you see? It’s Jim’s way of coming up with Roscoe. You know he + threatened that he’d fix him.” + </p> + <p> + “All I can say is, that it’s a very mean way,” said Wilkins in disgust. + </p> + <p> + He was not a model boy—far from it, indeed!—but he had a + sentiment of honor that made him dislike and denounce a conspiracy like + this. + </p> + <p> + “It’s a dirty trick,” he said, warmly. + </p> + <p> + “I agree with you on that point.” “What shall we do about it?” + </p> + <p> + “Lay low, and wait till the whole thing comes out. When Sock discovers his + loss, Jim will be on hand to tell him where his wallet is. Then we can up + and tell all we know.” + </p> + <p> + “Good! There’s a jolly row coming!” said Wilkins, smacking his lips. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVIII. THE MISSING WALLET IS FOUND. + </h2> + <p> + Socrates Smith was, ordinarily, so careful of his money, that it was a + very remarkable inadvertence to leave it on the bureau. Nor was it long + before he ascertained his loss. He was sitting at his desk when his wife + looked in at the door, and called for a small sum for some domestic + expenditure. + </p> + <p> + With an ill grace—for Socrates hated to part with his money—he + put his hand into the pocket where he usually kept his wallet. + </p> + <p> + “Really, Mrs. Smith,” he was saying, “it seems to me you are always + wanting money—why, bless my soul!” and such an expression of + consternation and dismay swept over his face, that his wife hurriedly + inquired: + </p> + <p> + “What is the matter, Mr. Smith?” + </p> + <p> + “Matter enough!” he gasped. “My wallet is gone!” + </p> + <p> + “Gone!” echoed his wife, in alarm. “Where can you have left it?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Smith pressed his hand to his head in painful reflection. + </p> + <p> + “How much money was there in it, Socrates?” asked his wife. + </p> + <p> + “Between forty and fifty dollars!” groaned Mr. Smith. “If I don’t find it, + Sophronia, I am a ruined man!” + </p> + <p> + This was, of course, an exaggeration, but it showed the poignancy of the + loser’s regret. + </p> + <p> + “Can’t you think where you left it?” + </p> + <p> + Suddenly Mr. Smith’s face lighted up. + </p> + <p> + “I remember where I left it, now,” he said; “I was up in the chamber an + hour since, and, while changing my coat, took out my wallet, and laid it + on the bureau. I’ll go right up and look for it.” + </p> + <p> + “Do, Socrates.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Smith bounded up the staircase with the agility of a man of half his + years, and hopefully opened the door of his chamber, which Jim had + carefully closed after him. His first glance was directed at the bureau, + but despair again settled down sadly upon his heart when he saw that it + was bare. There was no trace of the missing wallet. + </p> + <p> + “It may have fallen on the carpet,” said Socrates, hope reviving faintly. + </p> + <p> + There was not a square inch of the cheap Kidderminster carpet that he did + not scan earnestly, greedily, but, alas! the wallet, if it had ever been + there, had mysteriously taken to itself locomotive powers, and wandered + away into the realm of the unknown and the inaccessible. + </p> + <p> + Yet, searching in the chambers of his memory, Mr. Smith felt sure that he + had left the wallet on the bureau. He could recall the exact moment when + he laid it down, and he recollected that he had not taken it again. + </p> + <p> + “Some one has taken it!” he decided; and wrath arose in his heart, He + snapped his teeth together in stern anger, as he determined that he would + ferret out the miserable thief, and subject him to condign punishment. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Smith, tired of waiting for the appearance of her husband, ascended + the stairs and entered his presence. + </p> + <p> + “Well?” she said. + </p> + <p> + “I haven’t found it,” answered Socrates, tragically. “Mrs. Smith, the + wallet has been stolen!” + </p> + <p> + “Are you sure that you left it here?” asked his wife. + </p> + <p> + “Sure!” he repeated, in a hollow tone. “I am as sure as that the sun rose + to-morrow—I mean yesterday.” + </p> + <p> + “Was the door open?” + </p> + <p> + “No; but that signifies nothing. It wasn’t locked, and anyone could + enter.” + </p> + <p> + “Is it possible that we have a thief in the institute?” said Mrs. Smith, + nervously. “Socrates, I shan’t sleep nights. Think of the spoons!” + </p> + <p> + “They’re only plated.” + </p> + <p> + “And my earrings.” + </p> + <p> + “You could live without earrings. Think, rather, of the wallet, with + nearly fifty dollars in bills.” + </p> + <p> + “Who do you think took it, Socrates?” + </p> + <p> + “I have no idea; but I will find out. Yes, I will find out. Come + downstairs, Mrs. Smith; we will institute inquiries.” + </p> + <p> + When Mr. Smith had descended to the lower floor, and was about entering + the office, it chanced that his nephew was just entering the house. + </p> + <p> + “What’s the matter, Uncle Socrates?” he asked; “you look troubled.” + </p> + <p> + “And a good reason why, James; I have met with a loss.” + </p> + <p> + “You don’t say so!” exclaimed Jim, in innocent wonder; “what is it?” + </p> + <p> + “A wallet, with a large amount of money in it!” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps there is a hole in your pocket,” suggested Jim. + </p> + <p> + “A hole—large enough for my big wallet to fall through! Don’t be + such a fool!” + </p> + <p> + “Excuse me, uncle,” said Jim, meekly; “of course that is impossible. When + do you remember having it last?” + </p> + <p> + Of course Socrates told the story, now familiar to us, and already + familiar to his nephew, though he did not suspect that. + </p> + <p> + Jim struck his forehead, as if a sudden thought had occurred to him. + </p> + <p> + “Could it be?” he said, slowly, as if to himself; “no, I can’t believe + it.” + </p> + <p> + “Can’t believe what?” demanded Socrates, impatiently; “if you have any + clew, out with it!” + </p> + <p> + “I hardly like to tell, Uncle Socrates, for it implicates one of the + boys.” + </p> + <p> + “Which?” asked Mr. Smith, eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “I will tell you, though I don’t like to. Half an hour since, I was coming + upstairs, when I heard a door close, as I thought, and, directly + afterward, saw Hector Roscoe hurrying up the stairs to the third floor. I + was going up there myself, and followed him. Five minutes later he came + out of his room, looking nervous and excited. I didn’t think anything of + it at the time, but I now think that he entered your room, took the + wallet, and then carried it up to his own chamber and secreted it.” + </p> + <p> + “Hector Roscoe!” repeated Mr. Smith, in amazement. “I wouldn’t have + supposed that he was a thief.” + </p> + <p> + “Nor I; and perhaps he isn’t. It might be well, however, to search his + room.” + </p> + <p> + “I will!” answered Socrates, with eagerness, “Come up, James, and you, + Mrs. Smith, come up, too!” + </p> + <p> + The trio went upstairs, and entered poor Hector’s room. It was not + unoccupied, for Ben Platt and Wilkins were there. They anticipated a + visit, and awaited it with curious interest. They rose to their feet when + the distinguished visitors arrived. + </p> + <p> + “Business of importance brings us here,” said Socrates. “Platt and + Wilkins, you may leave the room.” + </p> + <p> + The boys exchanged glances, and obeyed. + </p> + <p> + “Wilkins,” said Ben, when they were in the corridor, “it is just as I + thought. Jim has set a trap for Roscoe.” + </p> + <p> + “He may get caught himself,” said Wilkins. “I ain’t oversqueamish, but + that is too confounded mean! Of course you’ll tell all you know?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; and I fancy it will rather surprise Mr. Jim. I wish they had let us + stay in there.” + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile, Jim skillfully directed the search. + </p> + <p> + “He may have put it under the mattress,” suggested Jim. + </p> + <p> + Socrates darted to the bed, and lifted up the mattress, but no wallet + revealed itself to his searching eyes. + </p> + <p> + “No; it is not here!” he said, in a tone of disappointment; “the boy may + have it about him. I will send for him.” + </p> + <p> + “Wait a moment, Uncle Socrates,” said Jim; “there is a pair of pants which + I recognize as his.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Smith immediately thrust his hand into one of the pockets and drew out + the wallet! + </p> + <p> + “Here it is!” he exclaimed, joyfully. “Here it is!” + </p> + <p> + “Then Roscoe is a thief! I wouldn’t have thought it!” said Jim. + </p> + <p> + “Nor I. I thought the boy was of too good family to stoop to such a thing. + But now I remember, Mr. Allan Roscoe told me he was only adopted by his + brother. He is, perhaps, the son of a criminal.” + </p> + <p> + “Very likely!” answered Jim, who was glad to believe anything derogatory + to Hector. + </p> + <p> + “What are you going to do about it, uncle?” + </p> + <p> + “I shall bring the matter before the school. I will disgrace the boy + publicly,” answered Socrates Smith, sternly. “He deserves the exposure.” + </p> + <p> + “Aha, Master Roscoe!” said Jim, gleefully, to himself; “I rather think I + shall get even with you, and that very soon.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIX. A DRAMATIC SCENE. + </h2> + <p> + It was generally after vespers that Mr. Smith communicated to the school + anything which he desired to call to their attention. This was to be the + occasion of bringing our hero into disgrace. + </p> + <p> + The boys assembled, most of them quite ignorant that anything exceptional + was to occur. Hector himself, the person chiefly interested, was entirely + unconscious that he was to be made “a shining mark” for the arrows of + suspicion and obloquy. If he had noticed the peculiar and triumphantly + malicious looks with which Jim Smith, the bully and tyrant, whom he had + humiliated and deposed, regarded him, he might have been led to infer that + some misfortune was in store for him. But these looks he did not chance to + notice. + </p> + <p> + There were two other boys, however, who did notice them. These were Ben + Platt and Wil-kins, who had very good reasons, as we know, for doing so. + </p> + <p> + “I believe old Sock is going to pitch into Roscoe at vespers,” said Ben, + in a whisper, to his roommate. + </p> + <p> + “So do I. There’s a look about him like that of a tiger about to pounce on + his prey.” + </p> + <p> + “Or a cat with murderous designs on a mouse.” + </p> + <p> + “We must expose the whole thing.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course.” + </p> + <p> + “Won’t Jim be mad?” + </p> + <p> + “Let him! He won’t dare to thrash us while Roscoe is round.” + </p> + <p> + There was, indeed, about Socrates Smith an air of mystery, portentous and + suggestive. He looked like one meditating a coup d’etat, or, perhaps, it + might better be said, a coup de main, as the hand is with schoolmasters, + generally, the instrument of attack. + </p> + <p> + When the proper time arrived, Mr. Smith cleared his throat, as he always + did before beginning to speak. + </p> + <p> + “Boys,” he said, “I have an important, and I may say, a painful, + communication to make to you.” + </p> + <p> + All the boys looked at each other in curiosity, except the three who were + already in the secret. + </p> + <p> + “You know, boys,” continued Socrates, “how proud I am of this institute, + how zealous I am for its good reputation, how unwearied I am in my efforts + for your progress and welfare.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Smith’s unwearied efforts were largely in the line of making out and + receipting bills for tuition, and it may be said that this was to him by + far the most agreeable of the duties he undertook to perform. + </p> + <p> + “I have been proud of my pupils,” continued the principal, “and it has + given me pleasure to reflect that you all reflected credit, more or less, + upon my teaching. I have, also, sought to form your manners, to train you + to fill the positions which Providence may have in store for you. In a + word, while from time to time you may have indulged in little escapades, + slightly-culpable, I have felt that you were all gentlemen.” + </p> + <p> + “What in the world does he mean?” thought more than one puzzled boy. “What + is all this leading to?” + </p> + <p> + Among those to whom this thought occurred, was Hector Roscoe, who was very + far from conjecturing that all this long preamble was to introduce an + attack upon him. + </p> + <p> + “But,” proceeded Socrates, after a pause, “I have this afternoon been + painfully undeceived. I have learned, with inexpressible pain, that Smith + Institute has received an ineffaceable stigma.” + </p> + <p> + “Old Sock is getting eloquent!” whispered Ben Platt. + </p> + <p> + “I have learned,” continued Socrates, with tragic intensity, “that I have + nourished a viper in my bosom! I have learned that we have a thief among + us!” + </p> + <p> + This declaration was greeted with a buzz of astonishment. Each boy looked + at his next door neighbor as if to inquire, “Is it you?” + </p> + <p> + Each one, except the three who were behind the scenes. Of these, Jim + Smith, with an air of supreme satisfaction, looked in a sidelong way at + Hector, unconscious the while that two pairs of eyes—those of + Wilkins and Ben Platt—were fixed upon him. + </p> + <p> + “I thought you would be surprised,” said the principal, “except, of + course, the miserable criminal. But I will not keep you in suspense. + To-day, by inadvertence, I left my wallet, containing a considerable sum + of money, on the bureau in my chamber. An hour later, discovering my loss, + I went upstairs, but the wallet was gone. It had mysteriously disappeared. + I was at a loss to understand this at first, but I soon found a clew. I + ascertained that a boy—a boy who is presently one of the pupils of + Smith Institute—had entered my chamber, had appropriated the wallet, + had carried it to his dormitory, and there had slyly concealed it in the + pocket of a pair of pants. Doubtless, he thought his theft would not be + discovered, but it was, and I myself discovered the missing wallet in its + place of concealment.” + </p> + <p> + Here Mr. Smith paused, and it is needless to say that the schoolroom was a + scene of great excitement. His tone was so impressive, and his statement + so detailed, that no one could doubt that he had most convincing evidence + of the absolute accuracy of what he said. + </p> + <p> + “Who was it?” every boy had it on his lips to inquire. + </p> + <p> + “Three hours have elapsed since my discovery,” continued Mr. Smith. + “During that time I have felt unnerved. I have, however, written and + posted an account of this terrible discovery to the friends of the pupil + who has so disgraced himself and the school.” + </p> + <p> + Ben Platt and Wilkins exchanged glances of indignation. They felt that Mr. + Smith had been guilty of a piece of outrageous injustice in acting thus + before he had apprised the supposed offender of the charge against him, + and heard his defense. Both boys decided that they would not spare Jim + Smith, but at all hazards expose the contemptible plot which he had + contrived against his schoolfellow. + </p> + <p> + “I waited, however, till I was somewhat more calm before laying the matter + before you. I know you will all be anxious to know the name of the boy who + has brought disgrace upon the school to which you belong, and I am + prepared to reveal it to you. Hector Roscoe, stand up!” + </p> + <p> + If a flash of lightning had struck him where he sat, Hector could not have + been more astonished. For a moment he was struck dumb, and did not move. + </p> + <p> + “Stand up, Hector Roscoe!” repeated the principal. “No wonder you sit + there as if paralyzed. You did not expect that so soon your sin would find + you out.” + </p> + <p> + Then Hector recovered completely his self-possession. He sprang to his + feet, and not only that, but he strode forward, blazing with passion, till + he stood before Mr. Smith’s desk and confronted him. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Smith!” he said, in a ringing tone, “do I understand you to charge me + with stealing a wallet of yours containing money?” + </p> + <p> + “I do so charge you, and I have complete evidence of the truth of my + charge. What have you to say?” + </p> + <p> + “What have I to say?” repeated Hector, looking around him proudly and + scornfully. “I have to say that it is an infamous lie!” + </p> + <p> + “Hold, sir!” exclaimed Socrates, angrily. “Shameless boy, do you intend to + brazen it out? Did I not tell you that I had complete proof of the truth + of the charge?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t care what fancied proof you have. I denounce the charge as a + lie.” + </p> + <p> + “That won’t do, sir! I myself took the wallet from the pocket of your + pantaloons, hanging in the chamber. Mrs. Smith was with me and witnessed + my discovery, and there was another present, one of the pupils of this + institute, who also can testify to the fact. It is useless for you to deny + it!” + </p> + <p> + “You found the wallet in the pocket of my pantaloons?” asked Hector, + slowly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. There can be no doubt about that.” + </p> + <p> + “Who put it there?” demanded Hector, quickly. + </p> + <p> + Socrates Smith was staggered, for he had not expected this query from the + accused. + </p> + <p> + “Who put it there?” he repeated. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,” continued Hector, firmly. “If the matter is as you state it, + some one has been mean enough to put the wallet into my pocket in order to + implicate me in a theft.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course you put it there yourself, Roscoe. Your defense is very lame.” + </p> + <p> + Hector turned round to his fellow-scholars. + </p> + <p> + “Boys,” he said, “you have heard the charge that has been made against me. + You know me pretty well by this time. Is there any one of you that + believes it to be true?” + </p> + <p> + “No! No!” shouted the boys, with one exception. Jim Smith was heard to say + distinctly, “I believe it!” + </p> + <p> + “Silence in the school!” shouted Socrates. “This is altogether irregular, + and I won’t have it.” + </p> + <p> + Hector turned to the principal, and said, calmly: + </p> + <p> + “You see, Mr. Smith, that, in spite of your proof, these boys will not + believe that your charge is well founded.” + </p> + <p> + “That is neither here nor there, Roscoe. Will anyone step up and prove + your innocence?” + </p> + <p> + There was another sensation. In the second row back a boy was seen to + rise. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Smith,” said Ben Platt, “I can prove Roscoe’s innocence!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XX. HECTOR GAINS A VICTORY. + </h2> + <p> + There were two persons on whom Ben Platt’s declaration made a profound + impression. These were Jim Smith and his uncle, the learned Socrates. The + latter was surprised, for he was fully persuaded that the charge he had + made was a true one, and Hector was a thief. As for Jim, his surprise was + of a very disagreeable nature. Knowing as he did that, he himself had + taken the money, he was alarmed lest his offense was to be made known, and + that the pit which he had digged for another should prove to be provided + for himself. + </p> + <p> + Socrates was the first to speak after taking time to recover himself from + his surprise. + </p> + <p> + “This is a very extraordinary statement, Platt,” he said. “You say you can + prove Roscoe’s innocence?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,” answered Platt, firmly. + </p> + <p> + “I wish no trifling here, sir,” said the principal, sharply. “I myself + found the wallet in Roscoe’s pocket.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,” answered Ben Platt, “I know it was there.” + </p> + <p> + “You knew it was there!” repeated Socrates. “How did you know it was + there?” + </p> + <p> + “Because I saw it put in.” + </p> + <p> + Here Jim Smith’s face turned from red to pale, and he moved about uneasily + in his seat. “Could Ben Platt have been hidden somewhere in the room?” he + asked himself, “If so, what was he to do?” There was but one answer to + this question. He must brazen it out, and boldly contradict the witness. + But he would bide his time. He would wait to hear what Ben had to say. + </p> + <p> + “Did you put it in yourself?” asked Socrates, savagely. + </p> + <p> + “No, Mr. Smith, I didn’t put it in,” answered Ben, indignantly. + </p> + <p> + “None of your impudence, sir!” said the schoolmaster, irritated. + </p> + <p> + “I merely answered your question and defended myself,” answered Ben. + </p> + <p> + There was a little murmur among the pupils, showing that their sympathy + was with the boy who had been so causelessly accused by the principal. + </p> + <p> + “Silence!” exclaimed Socrates, annoyed. “Now,” he continued, turning to + Ben, “since you know who put the wallet into Roscoe’s pocket—a very + remarkable statement, by the way—will you deign to inform me who did + it?” + </p> + <p> + “James Smith did it!” said Ben, looking over to the principal’s nephew, + who was half expecting such an attack. + </p> + <p> + “It’s a base lie!” cried Jim, but his face was blanched, his manner was + nervous and confused, and he looked guilty, if he were not so. + </p> + <p> + “My nephew?” asked Socrates, flurried. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “It isn’t so, Uncle Socrates,” said Jim, excited. “I’ll lick you, Ben + Platt, when we get out of school.” + </p> + <p> + “You forget yourself, James,” said Socrates, with a mildness he would not + have employed with any other pupil. + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon, Uncle Socrates,” said Jim, with contrition, “but I + can’t be silent when I am accused of things I don’t do.” + </p> + <p> + “To be sure, you have some excuse, but you should remember the respect you + owe to me. Then you did not do it?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly not, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “So it appears, Platt, that you have brought a false charge against your + fellow-pupil,” said Mr. Smith, severely. “I can conceive of nothing + meaner.” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Smith,” said Hector, “what right have you to say that the charge is + false? Is it the denial of your nephew? If he took the wallet he would, of + course, deny it.” + </p> + <p> + “So would you!” retorted Socrates. + </p> + <p> + “No one saw me conceal it,” said Hector, significantly. + </p> + <p> + Then Wilkins rose. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Smith,” he said, “I have some evidence to offer.” + </p> + <p> + “Out with it, sir,” said the principal, angrily, for he was fighting + against an inward conviction that his nephew was really the guilty party. + </p> + <p> + “I was walking along the corridor about the time Platt speaks of Smith’s + visit to Roscoe’s room, and I met your nephew walking in the opposite + direction. When I entered the room, Platt told me that, half-concealed by + the closet door, he had seen Jim Smith enter and thrust the wallet into + Roscoe’s pocket. Soon after, you and Mrs. Smith came into the room, guided + by your nephew, who let you know just where the wallet was hidden. He had + very good reasons for knowing,” added Wilkins. + </p> + <p> + If a look would have annihilated Wilkins, the look directed towards him by + Jim Smith would have had that effect. + </p> + <p> + “It’s a conspiracy against me, Uncle Socrates,” said Jim, intent upon + brazening it out. “They’re all in league together.” + </p> + <p> + “The testimony of Wilkins doesn’t amount to much!” said Mr. Smith. “He may + have seen James in the corridor, but that is by no means a part of his + complicity in this affair.” + </p> + <p> + “Just so!” said Jim, eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “Ben Platt’s evidence ought to count for something,” said Hector. “He saw + your nephew putting the wallet into the pocket of my pants.” + </p> + <p> + Socrates was clearly perplexed. In spite of his partiality for his nephew, + the case against him certainly looked very strong. + </p> + <p> + Hector, however, determined to make his defense even stronger. + </p> + <p> + “I would like to ask Platt,” he said, “at what time this took place?” + </p> + <p> + “At three o’clock.” + </p> + <p> + “How do you know it was three?” asked the principal, sharply. + </p> + <p> + “Because I heard the clock on the village church strike three.” + </p> + <p> + “I would like to ask another boy—Frank Lewis—if he heard the + clock strike three?” + </p> + <p> + Lewis answered in the affirmative. + </p> + <p> + “Where were you at the time?” + </p> + <p> + “In the playground.” + </p> + <p> + “What were you doing?” + </p> + <p> + “Playing ball.” + </p> + <p> + “Was I in the game?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “How long had the game been going on?” + </p> + <p> + “Half an hour.” + </p> + <p> + “How long had the game been going on, do you know?” + </p> + <p> + “From half to three-quarters of an hour.” + </p> + <p> + “Can you remember whether I was with you all the time?” + </p> + <p> + “You were.” + </p> + <p> + “Now, Platt, will you tell me how long after the wallet was put into my + pocket before Mr. Smith appeared in search of it?” + </p> + <p> + “Not over half an hour.” + </p> + <p> + “I submit, then,” said Hector, in a matter-of-fact manner, “that I was + absent in the playground during the entire time when it was found in my + room. I believe this is what lawyers call an alibi that I have, + fortunately, been able to prove.” + </p> + <p> + “You are a very smart lawyer!” sneered the principal. + </p> + <p> + The boys were by this time so incensed at Mr. Smith’s evident effort to + clear his nephew at the expense of Roscoe, that there was a very audible + hiss, in which at least half a dozen joined. + </p> + <p> + “Is this rebellion?” asked Socrates, furiously. + </p> + <p> + “No, sir,” said Ben Platt, firmly. “We want justice done; that is all.” + </p> + <p> + “You shall have justice—all of you!” exclaimed Socrates, carried + beyond the limits of prudence. + </p> + <p> + “I am glad to hear that, sir,” said Hector. “If you do not at once + exonerate me from this charge, which you know to be false, and write to my + guardian retracting it, I will bring the matter before the nearest + magistrate.” + </p> + <p> + This was more than Socrates had bargained for. He saw that he had gone too + far, and was likely to wreck his prospects and those of the school. + </p> + <p> + “I will look into the matter,” he said, hurriedly, “and report to the + school hereafter. You may now apply yourselves to your studies.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXI. THE USHER IS DISCHARGED. + </h2> + <p> + Among the boys of Smith Institute there was but one opinion on the subject + of the principal’s wallet. All acquitted Roscoe of having any part in the + theft, and they were equally unanimous in the belief that Jim Smith had + contrived a mean plot against the boy whom he could not conquer by fair + means. There was a little informal consultation as to how Jim should be + treated. It was finally decided to “send him to Coventry.” + </p> + <p> + As this phrase, which is well understood in English schools, may not be so + clear to my readers, I will explain that Jim was to be refused notice by + his schoolfellows, unless he should become aggressive, when he was to be + noticed in a manner far from agreeable. + </p> + <p> + Jim could not help observing the cold looks of the boys, who but lately + were glad enough to receive notice from him, and he became very angry. As + to being ashamed of the exposure, he was not sensitive, nor did he often + have any feeling of that kind. Naturally vindictive, he felt especially + angry with the two boys, Ben Platt and Wilkins, whose testimony had proved + so uncomfortable for him. + </p> + <p> + “I’ll thrash those boys if I never thrash another,” he said to himself. + “So they have turned against me, have they? They’re only fit to black my + boots anyway. I’ll give ‘em a lesson.” + </p> + <p> + Platt and Wilkins were expecting an attack. They knew that Jim would seize + the opportunity of attacking them singly, and in the absence of Hector, of + whom he was afraid, and with good reason. They concerted measures, + accordingly, for defeating the common enemy. + </p> + <p> + Jim was stalking about the next day, looking sullen and feeling ugly. He + could not help observing that whenever he approached a group of boys they + immediately scattered and walked away in various directions. This + naturally chafed him, for, having no intellectual resources, he found + solitude oppressive. Besides, he had been accustomed to the role of boss, + and where is a boss without followers? + </p> + <p> + Tired of the schoolroom precincts, Jim went to walk. In a rustic lane, + much to his delight, he saw approaching him one of the boys who had so + seriously offended him. + </p> + <p> + It was Ben Platt. + </p> + <p> + Ben was sauntering along in idle mood when he came face to face with the + dethroned boss. + </p> + <p> + “So it’s you, Platt, is it?” said Jim, grimly. + </p> + <p> + “I believe it is,” answered Ben, coolly. + </p> + <p> + “I’ve got a word or two to say to you,” said Jim, significantly. + </p> + <p> + “Say them quick,” said Ben, “for I’m in a hurry.” + </p> + <p> + “I’m not,” said Jim, in his old tone, “and it makes no difference whether + you are or not.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed! you are as polite as usual,” returned Ben. + </p> + <p> + “Look here, you young whelp!” Jim broke forth, unable any longer to + restrain his wrath, “what, did you mean by lying about me last evening?” + </p> + <p> + “I didn’t lie about you,” said Ben, boldly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, you did. What made you say you saw me put that wallet into Roscoe’s + pocket?” + </p> + <p> + “I can’t think of any reason, unless because it was true,” said Ben. + </p> + <p> + “Even if it were, how dared you turn against me? First you play the spy, + and then informer. Paugh!” + </p> + <p> + “I see you admit it,” said Ben. “Well, if you want an answer I will give + you one. You laid a plot for Hector Roscoe—one of the meanest, + dirtiest plots I ever heard of, and I wasn’t going to see you lie him into + a scrape while I could prevent it.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s enough, Platt!” exclaimed Jim, furiously. “Now, do you know what I + am going to do?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t feel particularly interested in the matter.” + </p> + <p> + “You will be, then. I am going to thrash you.” + </p> + <p> + “You wouldn’t if Hector Roscoe were here,” said Ben, not appearing to be + much frightened. + </p> + <p> + “Well, he isn’t here, though if he were it wouldn’t make any difference. + I’ll whip you so you can’t stand.” + </p> + <p> + Ben’s reply was to call “Wilkins!” + </p> + <p> + From a clump of bushes, where he had lurked, unobserved hitherto, sprang + Wilkins, and joined his friend. + </p> + <p> + “There are two of us, Smith!” said Ben Platt. + </p> + <p> + “I can thrash you both,” answered Jim, whose blood was up. + </p> + <p> + Before the advent of Hector no two boys would have ventured to engage Jim + in combat, but his defeat by a boy considerably smaller had lost him his + prestige, and the boys had become more independent. He still fancied + himself a match for both, however, and the conflict began. But both of his + antagonists were in earnest, and Jim had a hard time. + </p> + <p> + Now, it so happened that Mr. Crabb, the usher, was taking a solitary walk, + and had approached the scene of conflict unobserved by any of the + participants. He arrived at an opportune time. Jim had managed to draw + Wilkins away, and by a quick movement threw him. He was about to deal his + prostrate foe a savage kick, which might have hurt him seriously, when the + usher, quiet and peaceful as he was by nature, could restrain himself no + longer. He rushed up, seized him by the collar, dragged him back and shook + him with a strength he did not suppose he possessed, saying: + </p> + <p> + “Leave that boy alone, you brute!” + </p> + <p> + Jim turned quickly, and was very much surprised when he saw the meek + usher, whom he had always despised, because he looked upon him as a Miss + Nancy. + </p> + <p> + “So it’s you, is it?” he said, with a wicked glance. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it is I,” answered the usher, manfully; “come up just in time to + stop your brutality.” + </p> + <p> + “Is it any of your business?” demanded Jim, looking as if he would like to + thrash the usher. + </p> + <p> + “I have made it my business. Platt and Wilkins, I advise you to join me, + and leave this fellow, who has so disgraced himself as to be beneath your + notice.” + </p> + <p> + “We will accompany you with pleasure, sir,” said the boys. + </p> + <p> + They regarded the usher with new respect for this display of courage, for + which they had not given him credit. + </p> + <p> + “I’ll fix you, Crabb,” said Jim Smith, insolently, “and don’t you forget + it!” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crabb did not deign to answer him. + </p> + <p> + Jim Smith was as good as his word. + </p> + <p> + An hour later Mr. Crabb was summoned to the presence of the principal. + </p> + <p> + Socrates received him with marked coldness. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Crabb,” he said, “I cannot conceal the amazement I feel at a + complaint which has just been made by my nephew.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, sir?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crabb had nerved himself for the worst, and did not cower or show + signs of fear, as Socrates expected he would. + </p> + <p> + “James tells me that you attacked him savagely this afternoon when he was + having a little sport with two of his schoolfellows.” + </p> + <p> + “Is that what he says, Mr. Smith?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, and I require an explanation.” + </p> + <p> + “You shall have it. The sport in which your nephew was engaged was + attempting to thrash Wilkins. He had him down, and was about to deal him a + savage kick when I fortunately came up.” + </p> + <p> + “And joined in the fight,” sneered Socrates. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, if you choose to put it so. Would you have had me stand by, and see + Wilkins brutally used?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course, you color the affair to suit yourself,” said Socrates, coldly. + “The fact is that you, an usher, have lowered yourself by taking part in a + playful schoolboy contest.” + </p> + <p> + “Playful!” repeated Mr. Crabb. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and I shall show how I regard it by giving you notice that I no + longer require your services in my school. I shall pay you up at the end + of the week and then discharge you.” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Smith,” said the usher, “permit me to say that anything more + disgraceful than your own conduct within the last twenty-four hours I have + never witnessed. You have joined your nephew in a plot to disgrace an + innocent boy, declining to do justice, and now you have capped the climax + by censuring me for stopping an act of brutality, merely because your + nephew was implicated in it!” + </p> + <p> + “This to me?” exclaimed Socrates Smith, hardly crediting the testimony of + his ears. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, and more! I predict that the stupid folly which has + characterized your course will, within six months, drive from you every + scholar you have in your school!” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Crabb,” gasped Socrates, never more surprised in his life than he was + at the sudden spirit exhibited by the usher, “I will not be so insulted. + Leave me, and to-morrow morning leave my service.” + </p> + <p> + “I will, sir. I have no desire to remain here longer.” + </p> + <p> + But when Mr. Crabb had walked away his spirit sank within him. How was he + to obtain another situation? He must consult immediately with Hector + Roscoe, in whose judgment, boy as he was, he reposed great confidence. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXII. THE WELCOME LETTER. + </h2> + <p> + “Hector,” said Mr. Crabb, nervously, “I am going to leave the institute at + the end of the week.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you secured another situation, Mr. Crabb?” asked Hector, hopefully. + </p> + <p> + “No,” answered the usher, shaking his head. “I have been discharged.” + </p> + <p> + “For what reason?” + </p> + <p> + “For interfering with Mr. Smith’s nephew when he was brutally abusing + Wilkins.” + </p> + <p> + “Did Mr. Smith fully understand the circumstances?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; but he stands by his nephew right or wrong. He blamed me for + checking his nephew’s brutality.” + </p> + <p> + “This is shameful!” said Hector, warmly. “May I ask, Mr. Crabb, if you + have formed any plans?” + </p> + <p> + “No, except to seek a new position!” answered Crabb. “I fear,” he added, + despondently, “that it may be some time before I am so fortunate. Roscoe, + I don’t know what to do when I leave the school. I shall barely have five + dollars, and you know I have not only myself, but another to support.” + </p> + <p> + “Keep up your courage, Mr. Crabb! It is nearly time for me to hear from + the friend in New York to whom I wrote is your behalf. If you can secure + the position of his private tutor—” + </p> + <p> + “If I can, I will hail it as providential. It will relieve me at once from + all anxiety.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t think I shall long remain here myself, Mr. Crabb,” said Hector. + “I came here with the full intention of making the most of the facilities + the institute affords for education, but I find the principal incompetent, + and disposed to connive at injustice and brutality. The only good I have + got here has been derived from your instructions.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Roscoe. Such a tribute is, indeed, welcome,” said the usher, + warmly. + </p> + <p> + “It is quite sincere, Mr. Crabb, and I hope my good wishes may bring you + the advantage which I have in view.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Roscoe. I don’t blame you for being disgusted with the + management of the school. You have yourself suffered injustice.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; in writing home, and charging me with theft, before he had + investigated the circumstances, Mr. Smith did me a great injustice. I + doubt whether he has since written to correct the false charge, as I + required him to do. If not, I shall owe it to myself to leave the school.” + </p> + <p> + “You will be justified in doing so.” The next day brought Hector two + letters. One was from Allan Roscoe, and read as follows: + </p> + <p> + “HECTOR: I have received from your worthy teacher a letter which has + filled me with grief and displeasure. I knew you had great faults, but I + did not dream that you would stoop so low as to purloin money, as it seems + you have done. Mr. Smith writes me that there is no room to doubt your + guilt. He himself discovered in the pocket of your pantaloons a wallet + containing a large sum of money, which he had missed only a short time + before. He learned that you had entered his chamber, and taken the money, + being tempted by your own dishonest and depraved heart. + </p> + <p> + “I cannot express the shame I feel at this revelation of baseness. I am + truly glad that you are not connected with me by blood. Yet I cannot + forget that my poor brother treated you as a son; and took pains to train + you up in right ideas. It would give him deep pain could he know how the + boy whom he so heaped with benefits has turned out! I may say that Guy is + as much shocked as I am, but he, it seems, had a better knowledge of you + than I; for he tells me he is not surprised to hear it. I confess I am, + for I thought better of you. + </p> + <p> + “Under the circumstances I shall not feel justified in doing for you as + much as I intended. I proposed to keep you at school for two years more, + but I have now to announce that this is your last term, and I advise you + to make the most of it. I will try, when the term closes, to find some + situation for you, where your employer’s money will not pass through your + hands. ALLAN ROSCOE.” + </p> + <p> + Hector read the letter with conflicting feelings, the most prominent being + indignation and contempt for the man who so easily allowed himself to + think evil of him. + </p> + <p> + The other letter he found more satisfactory. + </p> + <p> + It was from his young friend in New York, Walter Boss. As it is short, I + subjoin it: + </p> + <p> + “DEAR HECTOR: I am ever so glad to hear from you, but I should like much + better to see you. I read to papa what you said of Mr. Crabb, and he says + it is very apropos, as he had made up his mind to get me a tutor. I am + rather backward, you see, not having your taste for study, and papa thinks + I need special attention. He says that your recommendation is sufficient, + and he will engage Mr. Crabb without any further inquiry; and he says he + can come at once. He will give him sixty dollars a month and board, and he + will have considerable time for himself, if he wants to study law or any + other profession. I don’t know but a cousin may join me in my studies, in + which case he will pay a hundred dollars per month, if that will be + sastisfactory. + </p> + <p> + “Why can’t you come and make me a visit? We’ll have jolly fun. Come and + stay a month, old chap. There is no one I should like better. Your friend, + WALTER Boss.” + </p> + <p> + Hector read this letter with genuine delight. It offered a way of escape, + both for the unfortunate usher and himself. Nothing could be more + “apropos” to quote Walter’s expression. + </p> + <p> + Our hero lost no time in seeking out Mr. Crabb. + </p> + <p> + “You seem in good spirits, Roscoe,” said the usher, his careworn face + contrasting with the beaming countenance of his pupil. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Mr. Crabb, I have reason to be, and so have you.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you heard from your friend?” asked the usher, hopefully. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and it’s all right.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crabb looked ten years younger. + </p> + <p> + “Is it really true?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “It is true that you are engaged as private tutor to my friend, Walter. + You’ll find him a splendid fellow, but I don’t know if the pay is + sufficient,” continued Hector, gravely. + </p> + <p> + “I am willing to take less pay than I get here,” said the usher, “for the + sake of getting away.” + </p> + <p> + “How much do you receive here?” + </p> + <p> + “Twenty dollar a month and board. I might, perhaps, get along on a little + less,” he added doubtfully. + </p> + <p> + “You won’t have to, Mr. Crabb. You are offered sixty dollars a month and a + home.” + </p> + <p> + “You are not in earnest, Roscoe?” asked the usher, who could not believe + in his good fortune. + </p> + <p> + “I will read you the letter, Mr. Crabb.” + </p> + <p> + When it was read the usher looked radiant. “Roscoe,” he said, “you come to + me like an angel from heaven. Just now I was sad and depressed; now it + seems to me that the whole future is radiant. Sixty dollars a month! Why, + it will make me a rich man.” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Crabb,” said Hector, with a lurking spirit of fun, “can you really + make up your mind to leave Smith Institute, and its kind and benevolent + principal?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t think any prisoner ever welcomed his release with deeper + thankfulness,” said the usher. “To be in the employ of a man whom you + despise, yet to feel yourself a helpless and hopeless dependent on him is, + I assure you, Roscoe, a position by no means to be envied. For two years + that has been my lot.” + </p> + <p> + “But it will soon be over.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, thanks to you. Why can’t you accompany me, Hector? I ought not, + perhaps, to draw you away, but—” + </p> + <p> + “But listen to the letter I have received from my kind and considerate + guardian, as he styles himself,” said Hector. + </p> + <p> + He read Allan Roscoe’s letter to the usher. + </p> + <p> + “He seems in a great hurry to condemn you,” said Mr. Crabb. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and to get me off his hands,” said Hector, proudly. “Well, he shall + be gratified in the last. I shall accept Walter’s invitation, and we will + go up to New York together.” + </p> + <p> + “That will, indeed, please me. Of course, you will undeceive your + guardian.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. I will get Wilkins and Platt to prepare a statement of the facts in + the case, and accompany it by a note releasing Mr. Roscoe from any further + care or expense for me.” + </p> + <p> + “But, Hector, can you afford to do this?” + </p> + <p> + “I cannot afford to do otherwise, Mr. Crabb. I shall find friends, and I + am willing to work for my living, if need be.” + </p> + <p> + At this point one of the boys came to Mr. Crabb with a message from + Socrates, desiring the usher to wait upon him at once. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0023" id="link2HCH0023"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIII. ANOTHER CHANCE FOR THE USHER. + </h2> + <p> + Mr. Smith had been thinking it over. He had discharged Mr. Crabb in the + anger of the moment, but after his anger had abated, he considered that it + was not for his interest to part with him. Mr. Crabb was a competent + teacher, and it would be well-nigh impossible to obtain another so cheap. + Twenty dollars a month for a teacher qualified to instruct in Latin and + Greek was certainly a beggarly sum, but Mr. Crabb’s dire necessity had + compelled him to accept it. Where could he look for another teacher as + cheap? Socrates Smith appreciated the difficulty, and decided to take Mr. + Crabb back, on condition that he would make an apology to Jim. + </p> + <p> + To do Mr. Crabb justice, it may be said that he would not have done this + even if he saw no chance of another situation. But this Mr. Smith did not + know. He did observe, however, that the usher entered his presence calm, + erect and appearing by no means depressed, as he had expected. + </p> + <p> + “You sent for me, sir?” said the usher interrogatively. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Mr. Crabb. You will remember that I had occasion to rebuke you, when + we last conferred together, for overstepping the limits of your + authority?” + </p> + <p> + “I remember, Mr. Smith, that you showed anger, and found fault with me.” + </p> + <p> + “Exactly so.” + </p> + <p> + “Why doesn’t he ask to be taken back?” thought Socrates. + </p> + <p> + “I have thought the matter over since,” continued the principal, “and have + concluded we might be able to arrange matters.” + </p> + <p> + The usher was surprised. He had not expected that Mr. Smith would make + overtures of reconciliation. He decided not to mention at present his + brighter prospects in New York, but to wait and see what further his + employer had to say. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crabb bowed, but did not make any reply. + </p> + <p> + “I take it for granted, Mr. Crabb, that your means are limited,” proceeded + Socrates. + </p> + <p> + “You are right there, sir. If I had not been poor I should not have + accepted the position of teacher in Smith Institute for the pitiful salary + of twenty dollars a month.” + </p> + <p> + “Twenty dollars a month and your board, Mr. Crabb,” said Socrates, with + dignity, “I consider a very fair remuneration.” + </p> + <p> + “I do not, Mr. Smith,” said the usher, in a decided tone. + </p> + <p> + “I apprehend you will find it considerably better than to be out of + employment,” said Socrates, rather angry. + </p> + <p> + “You are right there, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “I am glad you show signs of returning reason. Well, Mr. Crabb, I have + thought the matter over, and I have a proposal to make to you.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, sir!” + </p> + <p> + “I do not wish to distress you by taking away your means of livelihood.” + </p> + <p> + “You are very considerate, sir.” + </p> + <p> + There was something in Mr. Crabb’s tone that Socrates did not understand. + It really seemed that he did not care whether he was taken back or not. + But, of course, this could not be. It was absolutely necessary for him, + poor as he was, that he should be reinstated. So Mr. Smith proceeded. + </p> + <p> + “To cut the matter short, I am willing to take you back on two + conditions.” + </p> + <p> + “May I ask you to name them?” + </p> + <p> + “The first is, that you shall apologize to my nephew for your + unjustifiable attack upon him day before yesterday.” + </p> + <p> + “What is the other, Mr. Smith?” + </p> + <p> + “The other is, that hereafter you will not exceed the limits of your + authority.” + </p> + <p> + “And you wish my answer?” asked the usher, raising his eyes, and looking + fixedly at his employer. + </p> + <p> + “If you please, Mr. Crabb.” + </p> + <p> + “Then, sir, you shall have it. Your proposal that I should apologize to + that overgrown bully for restraining him in his savage treatment of a + fellow-pupil is both ridiculous and insulting.” + </p> + <p> + “You forget yourself, Mr. Crabb,” said Socrates, gazing at the hitherto + humble usher in stupefaction. + </p> + <p> + “As to promising not to do it again, you will understand that I shall make + no such engagement.” + </p> + <p> + “Then, Mr. Crabb,” said Socrates, angrily, “I shall adhere to what I said + the other day. At the end of this week you must leave me.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course, sir, that is understood!” + </p> + <p> + “You haven’t another engagement, I take it,” said Mr. Smith, very much + puzzled by the usher’s extraordinary independence. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, I have.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed!” said Socrates, amazed. “Where do you go?” Then was Mr. Crabb’s + time for triumph. + </p> + <p> + “I have received this morning an offer from the city of New York,” he + said. + </p> + <p> + “From New York! Is it in a school?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir; I am to be private tutor in a family.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed! Do you receive as good pay as here?” + </p> + <p> + “As good!” echoed the usher. “I am offered sixty dollars a month and + board, with the possibility of a larger sum, in the event of extra service + being demanded.” + </p> + <p> + Socrates Smith had never been more surprised. + </p> + <p> + This Mr. Crabb, whom he had considered to be under his thumb, as being + wholly dependent upon him, was to receive a salary which he considered + princely. + </p> + <p> + “How did you get this office?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Through my friend, Hector Roscoe,” answered the usher. + </p> + <p> + “Probably he is deceiving you. It is ridiculous to offer you such a sum.” + </p> + <p> + “I am quite aware that you would never think of offering it, but, Mr. + Smith, there are other employers more generous.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Crabb left the office with the satisfied feeling that he had the best + of the encounter.. He would have felt gratified could he have known the + increased respect with which he was regarded by the principal as a teacher + who could command so lucrative an engagement in the great city of New + York. + </p> + <p> + Before closing this chapter I must take notice of one circumstance which + troubled Mr. Smith, and in the end worked him additional loss. + </p> + <p> + I have already said that Jim Smith, in appropriating his uncle’s wallet, + abstracted therefrom a five-dollar bill before concealing it in Hector’s + pocket. + </p> + <p> + This loss Mr. Smith speedily discovered, and he questioned Jim about it. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose Roscoe took it,” said Jim, glibly. + </p> + <p> + “But he says he did not take the wallet,” said Socrates, who was assured + in his own mind that his nephew was the one who found it on the bureau. + Without stigmatizing him as a thief, he concluded that Jim meant to get + Hector into trouble. + </p> + <p> + “Wasn’t it found in his pants’ pocket?” queried Jim. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but why should he take five dollars out of the wallet?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know.” + </p> + <p> + “It doesn’t look likely that he would!” said Socrates, eying Jim keenly. + </p> + <p> + “Then it may have been Ben Platt or Wilkins,” said Jim, with a bright + idea. + </p> + <p> + “So it might,” said the principal, with a feeling of relief. + </p> + <p> + “They said they were in the room—at any rate, Platt said so—at + the time it was concealed, only he made a mistake and took Roscoe for me.” + </p> + <p> + “There is something in that, James. It may be as you suggest.” + </p> + <p> + “They are both sneaks,” said Jim, who designated all his enemies by that + name. “They’d just as lieve do it as not. I never liked them.” + </p> + <p> + “I must look into this matter. It’s clear that some one has got this + money, and whoever has it has got possession of it dishonestly.” + </p> + <p> + “To be sure,” answered Jim, with unblushing assurance. “If I were you I + would find out who did it, that is, if you don’t think Roscoe did it.” + </p> + <p> + “No, I don’t think Roscoe did it, now. You may tell Platt and Wilkins that + I wish to see them.” + </p> + <p> + Jim could not have been assigned a more pleasing duty. He hated the two + boys quite as much as he did Hector, and he was glad to feel that they + were likely to get into hot water. + </p> + <p> + He looked about for some time before he found the two boys. At length he + espied them returning from a walk. + </p> + <p> + “Here, you two!” he called out, in a voice ef authority. “You’re wanted!” + </p> + <p> + “Who wants us?” asked Ben Platt. + </p> + <p> + “My uncle wants you,” answered Jim, with malicious satisfaction. “You’d + better go and see him right off, too. You won’t find it a trifling matter, + either.” + </p> + <p> + “Probably Jim has been hatchng some mischief,” said Wilkins. “He owes us a + grudge. We’ll go and see what it is.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0024" id="link2HCH0024"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIV. THE YOUNG DETECTIVES. + </h2> + <p> + When Mr. Smith had made the two boys’ understand that he suspected them of + purloining the missing five-dollar bill, they were naturally very + indignant. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Smith,” said Ben Platt, in a spirited tone, “no one ever suspected me + of dishonesty before.” + </p> + <p> + “Nor me,” said Wilkins. + </p> + <p> + “That’s neither here nor there,” said the principal, dogmatically. “It + stands to reason that some one took the money. Money doesn’t generally + walk off itself,” he added, with a sneer. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t dispute that,” said Ben; “but that does not prove that Wilkins or + I had anything to do with it.” + </p> + <p> + “You were in the room with the money for half an hour, according to your + own confession,” said Socrates. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I was.” + </p> + <p> + “And part of that time Wilkins was also present.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,” assented Wilkins. + </p> + <p> + “I am no lawyer,” said the principal, triumphantly, “but that seems to me + a pretty good case of circumstantial evidence.” + </p> + <p> + “You seem to forget, sir, that there is another person who had an + excellent chance to take the money,” said Ben Platt. + </p> + <p> + “You mean Hector Roscoe? That is true. It lies between you three.” + </p> + <p> + “No, Mr. Smith, I do not mean Hector Roscoe. I have as much confidence in + Roscoe as myself.” + </p> + <p> + “So have I,” sneered Socrates. + </p> + <p> + “And I know he would not take any money that did not belong to him. I mean + a very different person—your nephew, James Smith.” + </p> + <p> + Socrates Smith frowned with anger. “There seems to be a conspiracy against + my unfortunate nephew,” he said. “I don’t believe a word of your mean + insinuations, and I am not deceived by your attempt to throw your own + criminality upon him. It will not injure him in my eyes. Moreover, I shall + be able to trace back the theft to the wrongdoer. The missing bill was + marked with a cross upon the back, and should either of you attempt to + pass it, your guilt will be made manifest. I advise you to restore it to + me while there is yet time.” + </p> + <p> + “The bill was marked?” asked Wilkins, eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Then, sir, you may have a chance to find out who took it.” + </p> + <p> + “The discovery might not please you,” said Socrates, with a sneer. + </p> + <p> + “It would give me the greatest pleasure, Mr. Smith. If I can in any way + help you discover the missing note, I will do so.” + </p> + <p> + “You can go,” said Socrates, abruptly. + </p> + <p> + When the two boys had left the presence of the principal, Ben Platt, said, + “What are you going to do about it, Wilkins?” + </p> + <p> + “First of all,” answered Wilkins, promptly, “I am going to find out if Jim + took that money.” + </p> + <p> + “How can you find out?” + </p> + <p> + “Did you notice that he had come out with a new ring?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I didn’t observe it.” + </p> + <p> + “He has bought it since that money was lost!” said Wilkins, significantly. + </p> + <p> + “Do you think he purchased it with the missing bill?” + </p> + <p> + “I wouldn’t wonder at all. At any rate, I am going to find out. He must + have bought it from Washburn, the jeweler. Will you go with me, and ask?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” answered Ben, eagerly. “Let us go alone. If we can only prove the + theft upon Jim, so that old Sock can’t help believing that he stole the + money, we shall be cleared; though, as to that, there isn’t a scholar in + school who would believe the charge against us.” + </p> + <p> + “Still, we may as well do what we can to bring the guilt home to Jim + Smith.” + </p> + <p> + Ten minutes later the two boys entered the shop of Mr. Washburn. + </p> + <p> + “Will you show me some rings, Mr. Washburn?” asked Wilkins. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly,” answered the jeweler, politely. + </p> + <p> + “What is the price of that?” asked Wilkins, pointing to one exactly like + the one he had seen on Jim’s finger. + </p> + <p> + “Three dollars and a half. It is a very pretty pattern.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir. There’s one of our boys who has one just like it.” + </p> + <p> + “You mean James Smith, the principal’s nephew.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “He bought it of me yesterday.” + </p> + <p> + The two boys exchanged a quick glance. + </p> + <p> + They felt that they were on the brink of a discovery. + </p> + <p> + “Did he give you a five-dollar bill in payment?” asked Ben Platt. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” answered the jeweler, in surprise. + </p> + <p> + “Could you identify that bill?” + </p> + <p> + “What are you driving at, boys?” asked Mr. Washburn, keenly. + </p> + <p> + “I will explain to you if you will answer my questions first.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I could identify the bill.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you it in your possession still?” + </p> + <p> + “I have.” + </p> + <p> + “How will you know it?” + </p> + <p> + “It seems to me, my boy, you are in training for a lawyer.” + </p> + <p> + “I have a very urgent reason for asking you this question, Mr. Washburn.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I will answer you. When the note was given me, I noticed that it was + on the Park Bank of New York.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you be kind enough to see if you can find it?”’ + </p> + <p> + “Certainly.” + </p> + <p> + The jeweler opened his money drawer, and after a brief search, produced + the bill in question. + </p> + <p> + It was a five-dollar bill on the Park Bank of New York, as he had already + told the boys. + </p> + <p> + “Now, Mr. Washburn,” asked Wilkins, trying to repress his excitement, + “will you examine the back of the bill, and see if there is any mark on + it.” + </p> + <p> + The jeweler did as requested, and announced, after slight examination, + that there was a cross on the back of the bill in the upper right hand + corner. + </p> + <p> + “Hurrah!” shouted Ben, impulsively. + </p> + <p> + To the wondering jeweler he explained his precise object in the inquiry he + had made, and the boys were complimented by Mr. Washburn for their + shrewdness. + </p> + <p> + “If I ever meet with a loss, I shall certainly call on you for assistance, + boys,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Mr. Washburn,” answered Wilkins, “but I do not expect to be + here to be called upon.” + </p> + <p> + “You are not going to leave the institute, are you?” + </p> + <p> + “I shall write to my father in what manner I have been treated, and let + him understand how the principal manages the school, and I feel sure he + will withdraw me.” + </p> + <p> + “Ditto for me!” said Ben Platt. “Old Sock’s partiality for his nephew has + been carried too far, and now that the only decent teacher is going—Mr. + Crabb—I don’t mean, to stay here if I can help it.” + </p> + <p> + The boys, upon their return to the school, sought out the principal. + </p> + <p> + “Well, boys,” he said, “have you come to confess?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir,” answered Ben, “but we have come to give you some information + about your money.” + </p> + <p> + “I was sure you knew something about it,” said Socrates, with a sneer. “I + am glad you have decided to make a clean breast of it.” + </p> + <p> + “You are mistaken, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, out with your information!” said the principal, roughly. + </p> + <p> + “A five-dollar bill, marked as you have described, was paid to Mr. + Washburn, the jeweler, only yesterday.” + </p> + <p> + “Ha! Well?” + </p> + <p> + “The one who offered it purchased a gold ring.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t care what he bought. Who was it that offered the money?” + </p> + <p> + “Your nephew, James Smith!” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t believe it,” said the teacher, very much disconcerted. + </p> + <p> + “Then, sir, I advise you to question Mr. Washburn.” + </p> + <p> + “How can he identify the bill? Is it the only five-dollar bill he has?” + </p> + <p> + “The only five-dollar bill on the Park Bank of New York, and he says he + noticed that this was the bank that issued the bill handed him by your + nephew.” + </p> + <p> + “What of that?” + </p> + <p> + “The note, which he still has in his possession, is marked just exactly as + you have described.” + </p> + <p> + “It may have been marked since it came into Mr. Washburn’s hands,” said + Socrates, but he was evidently very much disturbed by the intelligence. He + might not confess it, but he could not help believing that Jim was the + thief, after all. + </p> + <p> + “You can go,” he said, harshly. “I will look into this improbable story.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0025" id="link2HCH0025"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXV. SMITH INSTITUTE GROWS UNPOPULAR. + </h2> + <p> + Hector lost no time in drawing up a statement of the facts connected with + the loss of the wallet, which he got Wilkins and Ben Platt to sign. This + he put into an envelope directed to Allan Roscoe, accompanied by a brief + note, which I subjoin: + </p> + <p> + “MR. ROSCOE: I send you a statement, signed by two of my schoolmates, + showing that the charge which Mr. Smith was in such a hurry to bring + against me, in order to screen his nephew, who is the real thief, is + wholly unfounded. I am not particularly surprised that you were ready to + believe it, nor do I care enough for your good opinion to worry. I + consider that it is due to myself, however, to prove to you that I have + done nothing of which I need be ashamed. Finding the scholars here in + terror of a bully, who imposed upon his schoolfellows with impunity + because, being the principal’s nephew, he was protected in so doing, I + taught him a lesson which may not do him good, but has certainly been of + benefit to his fellow-pupils. In so doing, I have incurred his enmity, and + that of his uncle, who, for more than one reason, is utterly unfit to + conduct a school of this kind. + </p> + <p> + “You threaten to remove me from school at the end of this term. I do not + wish to remain, and shall remove myself at the end of this week. I shall + not look to you for support, nor do I expect again to depend upon the + estate to which I once thought myself the heir, unless I should be able to + prove that I am the son of your brother, as I fully believe, + notwithstanding the letter you exhibit.” + </p> + <p> + “HECTOR ROSCOE.” + </p> + <p> + When Mr. Allan Roscoe received this letter he was very much disturbed. As + he had no affection for Hector, and did not care what became of him, this + may, perhaps, excite surprise. Could it be the last sentence which excited + his alarm? + </p> + <p> + “Is that letter from Hector?” asked Guy, who had noticed the postmark as + it lay upon his father’s table. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” answered Allan Roscoe. + </p> + <p> + “Does he try to explain his theft?” asked Guy. + </p> + <p> + “He says he had nothing to do with it.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, of course!” sneered Guy. “You don’t believe it, do you?” + </p> + <p> + “He sends a statement of two of the pupils to the effect that the wallet + was taken by another pupil, a nephew of the principal.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s too thin!” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know. It may be true. I don’t like the boy, but I hardly think it + probable he would steal.” + </p> + <p> + “You think better of him than I do. I suppose he wants to get into your + good graces again?” + </p> + <p> + “No; he says he shall leave school at the end of this week, and will not + again look to me for support.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s jolly!” exclaimed Guy, much pleased. “You’re well rid of him, + papa. Let him go away and make a living as he can. He’ll have to turn + newsboy, or something of that sort—perhaps he’ll have to be a + bootblack. Wouldn’t that be a good come down for a boy like Hector?” + </p> + <p> + Guy spoke with great glee, but his father did not seem to enjoy his + release as well as Guy. He showed that he understood the boy better when + he said: + </p> + <p> + “Hector will not have to resort to any such employment. He has a good + education, and he can get some decent position, probably. On the whole, I + am sorry he is going to leave my protection, for friends of the family + may, perhaps, blame me.” + </p> + <p> + “But it isn’t your fault, papa. He is taking his own course.” + </p> + <p> + “To be sure. You are right there!” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Roscoe thought so much on the subject, however, that the next day he + went to Smith Institute to see Hector, without telling Guy where he was + going. + </p> + <p> + Arrived there, he asked to see Mr. Smith. + </p> + <p> + The latter did not appear to be in a happy frame of mind. + </p> + <p> + “How do you do, Mr. Roscoe?” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” answered Mr. Roscoe, briefly. “Mr. Smith, I wish to see my + ward.” + </p> + <p> + “I am sorry you cannot see him, Mr. Roscoe.” + </p> + <p> + “Cannot see him! Why not?” + </p> + <p> + “Because he has left the institute.” + </p> + <p> + Allan Roscoe frowned. + </p> + <p> + “Why has he left?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “He has left against my will. I think he has been influenced by an usher + in my employ who has behaved very ungratefully. I took him, sir, when he + was in danger of starving, and now he leaves me at a day’s notice, after + doing all he can to break up my school.” + </p> + <p> + “I feel no particular interest in your usher,” said Allan Roscoe, coldly. + “I wish to obtain information about the boy I placed under your charge. Do + you know where he has gone?” + </p> + <p> + “No; he did not tell me,” answered the principal. + </p> + <p> + “You wrote me that he had been detected in stealing a wallet!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” answered Socrates, embarrassed. “Appearances were very much against + him.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you still think he took it?” + </p> + <p> + “I may have been mistaken,” answered Mr. Smith, nervously, for he began to + see that the course he had been pursuing was a very unwise one. + </p> + <p> + “Hector has written me, inclosing a statement signed by two of his + schoolfellows, implicating your own nephew, and he charges that you made + the charge against him out of partiality for the same.” + </p> + <p> + “There is considerable prejudice against my nephew,” said Socrates. + </p> + <p> + “And for very good reasons, I should judge,” said Allan Roscoe, severely. + “Hector describes him as an outrageous bully and tyrant. I am surprised, + Mr. Smith, that you should have taken his part.” + </p> + <p> + Now, Socrates had already had a stormy interview with his nephew. Though + partial to Jim, and not caring whether or not he bullied the other boys, + as soon as he came to see that Jim’s presence was endangering the school, + he reprimanded him severely. He cared more for himself—for number + one—than for anyone else in the universe. He had been exceedingly + disturbed by receiving letters from the fathers of Wilkins and Ben Platt, + and two other fathers, giving notice that they should remove their sons at + the end of the term, and demanding, in the meantime, that his nephew + should be sent away forthwith. + </p> + <p> + And now Allan Roscoe, whom he had hoped would side with him, had also + turned against him. Then he had lost the services of a competent usher, + whom he got cheaper than he could secure any suitable successor, and, + altogether, things seemed all going against him. + </p> + <p> + Moreover, Jim, who had been the occasion of all the trouble, had answered + him impudently, and Socrates felt that he had been badly used. As to his + own agency in the matter, he did not give much thought to that. + </p> + <p> + “My nephew is going to leave the school, Mr. Roscoe,” said Socrates, + half-apologetically. + </p> + <p> + “I should think it was full time, Mr. Smith.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps so,” said Smith; “but if I have stood by him, it has been in + ignorance. I cannot think him as wrong as your ward has probably + represented. Hector was jealous of him.” + </p> + <p> + “Of his scholarship, I presume?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, no,” answered the principal, reluctantly, “but of his physical + superiority, and—and influence in the school. I may say, in fact, + Mr. Roscoe, that till your ward entered the school it was a happy and + harmonious family. His coming stirred up strife and discontent, and I + consider him primarily responsible for all the trouble that has occurred.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t defend Hector Roscoe,” said Allan, “but he writes me that your + nephew was a bully, who imposed upon his schoolfellows, and that he, by + taking their part and stopping this tyranny, incurred his ill-will and + yours.” + </p> + <p> + “I supposed I should be misrepresented,” said Socrates, meekly. “I am + devoted to my school and my pupils, Mr. Roscoe. I am wearing out my life + in their service. I may make mistakes sometimes, but my heart—my + heart, Mr. Roscoe,” continued Socrates, tapping his waistcoat, “is right, + and acquits me of any intentional injustice.” + </p> + <p> + “I am glad to hear it, Mr. Smith,” said Allan Roscoe, stiffly. “As Hector + has left you, I have only to settle your bill, and bid you good-day.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you not exert your influence to persuade the boy to return?” pleaded + Socrates. + </p> + <p> + “As I don’t know where he is, I don’t see how I can,” said Allan Roscoe, + dryly. + </p> + <p> + “That man is an arch hypocrite!” he said to himself, as he was returning + home. + </p> + <p> + I may state here that at the end of the term half the pupils left Smith + Institute, and Socrates Smith lamented too late the folly that had made + him and his school unpopular. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0026" id="link2HCH0026"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXVI. HECTOR’S ARRIVAL IN NEW YORK. + </h2> + <p> + Mr. Crabb and Hector were sitting side by side in a railroad car, speeding + away from Smith Institute. In the heart of each was a feeling of relief, + which increased as each minute carried them farther away from the school. + </p> + <p> + “Hector,” said the usher, looking younger and happier than his pupil had + ever known him, “I feel like a free man now. It is a feeling that I have + not had since I first set foot in Smith Institute.” + </p> + <p> + “I think you will lead a happier life in New York, Mr. Crabb.” + </p> + <p> + “I am sure of it. Thanks to your considerate kindness, I shall for the + first time earn an ample salary, and even be able to lay up money. Is my + future pupil about your age?” + </p> + <p> + “He is a year younger.” + </p> + <p> + “Where did you make his acquaintance?” + </p> + <p> + “At Saratoga, My father and I spent two months at Congress Hall two + summers ago, and as Walter’s family were also there, we naturally got to + be friends. He is a capital fellow, and you will be sure to like him.” + </p> + <p> + “I am ready to like him after reading that letter he wrote you. Is he fond + of study?” + </p> + <p> + “That is his weak point,” said Hector, laughing. “Walter was never cut out + for a scholar. I don’t mean, of course, that he hasn’t fair capacity, but + his taste doesn’t lie that way. However, he won’t give you any trouble, + only you won’t succeed as well as you may wish in pushing him on.” + </p> + <p> + “All boys are not cut out for scholars,” said the usher. “Now you, Hector, + would do excellently, and might hope to make a very successful + professional man.” + </p> + <p> + Hector shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “I must look to a different career,” he said. “I am to be the architect of + my own fortune, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “What are your plans, Hector?” asked the usher. + </p> + <p> + “I will consult with Mr. Boss, Walter’s father. By the way, he knows + nothing of the change in my circumstances. He supposes me to be the heir + to the Roscoe estate.” + </p> + <p> + “Trouble has come upon you early, Hector. Should you need help hereafter, + you must remember that I am earning a good salary and—” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Mr. Crabb,” gratefully, “but you will need all you earn. I + don’t look upon my loss of fortune as a trouble. I think it will make me + more manly and self-reliant, and stimulate me to exertion. I have a fair + education, and I am sure I can earn my living in some honest way.” + </p> + <p> + “If that is your spirit, Hector, I am sure you will succeed. You are young + and hopeful. I am too much inclined to despond. I have always been timid + about the future. It is a matter of temperament.” + </p> + <p> + It was early in the afternoon when they reached New York. As they emerged + from the depot a bright-faced boy came up eagerly and greeted them. + </p> + <p> + “How are you, Hector?” he said. “You see, I came to meet you. I have been + longing to have you come.” + </p> + <p> + “I am just as glad to see you, Walter,” said Hector, heartily. “Mr. Crabb, + here is your future pupil, Walter Boss.” + </p> + <p> + “I hope we may soon be friends, Walter,” said the usher, attracted by the + bright, sunny face of the boy. + </p> + <p> + Walter gave the usher his hand. + </p> + <p> + “I hope so, too,” he said, smiling. “I’ll try not to worry you any more + than I can help.” + </p> + <p> + “I have no misgivings,” said Mr. Crabb, as he mentally contrasted his new + pupil with Jim Smith, and two or three others at the institute, who had + been a frequent source of trouble and annoyance. + </p> + <p> + “Here is the carriage,” said Walter, pointing out a plain but handsome + carriage waiting outside. “Bundle in, both of you! I beg your pardon, Mr. + Crabb, for my familiarity. That was intended for Hector.” + </p> + <p> + “I am ready to be classed with Hector,” said Mr. Crabb. + </p> + <p> + “I am glad to hear you say so. I was afraid you would be stiff and + dignified.” + </p> + <p> + “I think I shall take my cue from you.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, my rule is, go as you please. Edward, drive home!” + </p> + <p> + The house occupied by Mr. Boss was a fine brown-stone dwelling on + Forty-second Street. Arrived there, Mr. Crabb was shown into a spacious + chamber, on the third floor, furnished with a luxury to which the poor + usher was quite unaccustomed. + </p> + <p> + “Now, Hector, you can have a room to yourself, or you may share my den,” + said Walter. + </p> + <p> + “I would rather share the den,” said Hector. + </p> + <p> + “That’s what I hoped. You see, we shall have ever so much to say to each + other. We haven’t seen each other for over a year.” + </p> + <p> + A slight shade of gravity overspread Hector’s face. Since he had met his + friend, his father had died, and he had been reduced from the heir of + wealth to a penniless orphan. Of this last change Walter knew nothing, but + Hector did not mean long to leave him in ignorance. + </p> + <p> + At dinner the two newcomers saw Mr. Ross, from whom they received a + friendly welcome. The usher was put at his ease at once. + </p> + <p> + “I hope you’ll get along with my boy,” said the bluff city merchant. “Of + one thing you may be assured, your scholarship won’t be severely taxed in + educating him. Walter is a pretty good boy, but he isn’t a prodigy of + learning.” + </p> + <p> + “I may be some day, father,” said Walter, “with Mr. Crabb’s help.” + </p> + <p> + “I take it Mr. Crabb isn’t able to perform miracles,” said Mr. Ross, + good-humoredly. “No, Mr. Crabb, I shan’t expect too much of you. Get your + pupil on moderately fast, and I shall be satisfied. I am glad, Hector, + that you were able to pay Walter a visit at this time.” + </p> + <p> + “So am I, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “I thought you might not be able to leave your studies.” + </p> + <p> + “I have given up study, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “I am surprised at that, Hector. I thought you contemplated going to + college.” + </p> + <p> + “So I did, sir, but circumstances have changed my plans.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir; I will explain after dinner, and will ask your advice.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Ross dropped the subject, and after dinner led the way to the library, + where he sank into an armchair, and, breathing a sigh of satisfaction, + said: “This, Mr. Crabb, is the most enjoyable part of the twenty-four + hours for me. I dismiss business cares and perplexities, and read my + evening paper, or some new book, in comfort.” + </p> + <p> + As the usher looked about him and saw costly books, engravings, furniture + and pictures, he could well understand that in such surroundings the + merchant could take solid comfort. It was a most agreeable contrast to the + plain and poverty-stricken room at Smith Institute, where the boys pursued + their evening studies under his superintendence. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Hector, so you don’t propose to go back to school,” said the + merchant. “Isn’t that rather a sudden resolution?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir; but, as I said, circumstances have changed.” + </p> + <p> + “What circumstances? Because you are rich, you don’t think you ought to be + idle, I hope?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no, sir. It is because I have discovered that I am not rich.” + </p> + <p> + “Not rich! I always understood that your father left a large estate,” said + Mr. Ross, in surprise. + </p> + <p> + “So he did, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Didn’t it descend to you?” + </p> + <p> + “I thought so till recently.” + </p> + <p> + “Why don’t you think so now?” + </p> + <p> + In answer, Hector told the story of the revelation made to him by Allan + Roscoe, after his father’s death. + </p> + <p> + “You see, therefore,” he concluded, “that I am penniless, and a dependent + upon Mr. Allan Roscoe’s generosity.” + </p> + <p> + “This is a most extraordinary story!” said the merchant, after a pause. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir; it changes my whole future.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose Mr. Allan Roscoe is the beneficiary, and the estate goes to + him?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Did your father—the late Mr. Roscoe—ever hint to you anything + which could lead you to suspect that you were not his own, but an adopted + son?” + </p> + <p> + “Never, Mr. Ross,” answered Hector, with emphasis. + </p> + <p> + “Did he continue to treat you with affection.” + </p> + <p> + “Always. Nothing in his manner ever would have led me to imagine that I + was not his own son.” + </p> + <p> + “He left no will?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “What are your plans?” + </p> + <p> + “I do not wish to remain dependent upon Allan Roscoe. I should like to + obtain a situation of some kind in the city, if I can.” + </p> + <p> + “I can probably serve you, then, after a while. For the present, stay here + as Walter’s companion.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, sir; I should like nothing better.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0027" id="link2HCH0027"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXVII. LARRY DEANE. + </h2> + <p> + Not altogether in accordance with his inclinations, Walter was set to work + at his studies immediately under the direction of Mr. Crabb. He asked his + father for a week’s vacation to go about the city with Hector, but his + father answered in the negative. + </p> + <p> + “You are too far behind in your studies, Walter,” he said. “You are two + years, at least, behind Hector, and cannot spare the time as well as he.” + </p> + <p> + “Hector will have to go round alone,” objected Walter. + </p> + <p> + “It will do him no harm to get acquainted with the different parts of the + city, as that will be a kind of knowledge he may require if he should + obtain a situation.” + </p> + <p> + “I shan’t see much of him.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, you will; Mr. Crabb will not make you study all day. Mr. Crabb, + you may work with Walter from nine to one. This, with perhaps an hour or + more devoted to study in the afternoon or evening, will enable him to make + fair progress.” + </p> + <p> + This arrangement struck Walter favorably, as he could, whenever he desired + it, spend the whole afternoon with Hector. + </p> + <p> + Hector found it very pleasant to act upon the suggestion made by Mr. Ross. + He had visited the city of New York at different times, but had never + enjoyed the opportunity of exploring it by himself. His first visit was + made to Central Park, where he mingled with the crowds wandering about in + search of pleasure. + </p> + <p> + He made his way to the lake, and took passage in one of the skiffs which, + in charge of a skilled oarsman, makes a tour of the pretty and picturesque + sheet of water. + </p> + <p> + The second morning he turned his steps southward, and walked down + Broadway. It was a leisurely walk, for he had no scruple in stopping + wherever he saw anything in the streets or in the shop windows that seemed + to him worthy of attention. About the corner of Canal Street he was very + much surprised at a boy who was on his knees, blacking the boots of an + elderly gentleman—a boy whom he recognized at once as the son of a + man who had for years been in his father’s employ as gardener at Castle + Roscoe. + </p> + <p> + “What brings him here?” thought Hector, much surprised. + </p> + <p> + “Larry Deane!” he said, as the boy finished his job, and rose from his + feet to receive his pay. + </p> + <p> + “Hector Roscoe!” exclaimed Larry, not much less surprised. + </p> + <p> + “What brings you here, and what has reduced you to such work?” inquired + Hector. + </p> + <p> + Larry Deane was a boy of about Hector’s age. He was a healthy-looking + country lad, looking like many another farmer’s son, fresh from the + country. He had not yet acquired that sharp, keen look which + characterizes, in most cases, the New York boy who has spent all his life + in the streets. + </p> + <p> + “I can answer both your questions with the same word, Master Hector,” said + Larry, as a sober look swept over his broad, honest face. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t call me master, Larry. We are equals here. But what is that word?” + </p> + <p> + “That word is trouble,’” answered the bootblack. + </p> + <p> + “Come with me into this side street,” said Hector, leading the way into + Howard Street. “You have a story to tell, and I want to hear it.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I have a story to tell.” + </p> + <p> + “I hope your father and mother are well,” said Hector, interrupting him. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, they are well in health, but they are in trouble, as I told you.” + </p> + <p> + “What is the trouble?” + </p> + <p> + “It all comes of Mr. Allan Roscoe,” answered Larry, “and his son, Guy.” + </p> + <p> + “Tell me all about it.” + </p> + <p> + “I was walking in the fields one day,” said Larry, “when Guy came out and + began to order me round, and call me a clodhopper and other unlikely + names, which I didn’t enjoy. Finally he pulled off my hat, and when I put + it back on my head, he pulled it off again. Finally I found the only way + to do was to give him as good as he sent. So I pulled off his hat and + threw it up in a tree. He became very angry, and ordered me to go up after + it. I wouldn’t do it, but walked away. The next day my father was summoned + to the house, where Mr. Allan Roscoe complained of me for insulting his + son. He asked my father to thrash me, and when father refused, he + discharged him from his employment. A day or two afterward a new gardener + came to Roscoe Castle, and father understood that there was no chance of + his being taken back.” + </p> + <p> + “That was very mean in Mr. Roscoe,” said Hector, indignantly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, so it was; but father couldn’t do anything. He couldn’t get a new + place, for it wasn’t the right time of year, and Mr. Roscoe said he + wouldn’t give him a recommendation. Well, we had very little money in the + house, for mother has been sick of late years, and all father’s extra + earnings went to pay for medicines and the doctor’s bill. So one day I + told father I would come to New York and see if I couldn’t find something + to do.” + </p> + <p> + “I think you did the right thing, Larry,” said Hector, approvingly. “It + was your duty to help your father if you could.” + </p> + <p> + “I can’t help him much,” answered Larry. + </p> + <p> + “What made you take up this business, Larry?” + </p> + <p> + “I couldn’t get anything else to do, besides, this pays better than + working in a store or office.” + </p> + <p> + “How—much can you earn at it?” + </p> + <p> + “Six or seven dollars a week.” + </p> + <p> + “I should think it would require all that to support you.” + </p> + <p> + “It would if I went to a boarding house, but I can’t afford that.” + </p> + <p> + “Where do you live?” + </p> + <p> + “At the Newsboys’ Lodging House.” + </p> + <p> + “How much does that cost you?” + </p> + <p> + “For eighteen cents a day I get supper, lodging and breakfast. In the + middle of the day I go to a cheap restaurant.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you are able to save something?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; last week I sent home three dollars, the week before two dollars and + a half.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, that is doing famously. You are a good boy, Larry.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Hector; but, though it is doing very well for me, it isn’t as + much as they need at home. Besides, I can’t keep it up, as, after a while, + I shall need to buy some new clothes. If your father had been alive, my + father would never have lost his place. Master Hector, won’t you use your + influence with your uncle to have him taken back?” + </p> + <p> + Hector felt keenly how powerless he was in the matter. He looked grave, as + he answered: + </p> + <p> + “Larry, you may be sure that I would do all in my power to have your + father restored to the position from which he never should have been + removed; but I fear I can do nothing.” + </p> + <p> + “Won’t you write to Mr. Roscoe?” pleaded Larry, who, of course, did not + understand why Hector was powerless. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I will write to him, but I am sorry to say that I have very little + influence with Mr. Roscoe.” + </p> + <p> + “That is strange,” said Larry; “and you the owner of the estate.” + </p> + <p> + Hector did not care to explain to Larry just how matters stood, so he only + said: + </p> + <p> + “I can’t explain to you what seems strange to you, Larry, but I may be + able to do so some time. I will certainly write to Mr. Roscoe, as you + desire; but you must not build any hopes upon it. Meanwhile, will you + accept this from me, and send it to your father?” + </p> + <p> + As he spoke, he drew from his pocketbook a five-dollar bill and handed it + to his humble friend. + </p> + <p> + Larry would not have accepted it had he known that Hector was nearly as + poor as himself, but, supposing him to be the heir of a large and rich + estate, he felt no hesitation. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you very much, Hector,” he said; “you had always a kind heart. This + money will do my father very much good. I will send it to him to-day.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you generally stand here, Larry?” asked Hector. + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I will take pains to see you again.” + </p> + <p> + “Shall you stay long in the city, Master Hector?” + </p> + <p> + “Not Master Hector.” + </p> + <p> + “Then Hector, if you don’t mind.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall be here for the present—I don’t know how long.” + </p> + <p> + “Then let me black your boots for nothing every time you come by—I + want to do something for you.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Larry; but I don’t like to have a friend perform such a + service. Remember me to your father when you write.” + </p> + <p> + “I wish I could do something for Larry,” said Hector, to himself, as he + walked away. “As it is, I stand in need of help myself.” + </p> + <p> + He was to make a friend that day under rather unusual circumstances. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0028" id="link2HCH0028"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXVIII. TWO MORE ACQUAINTANCES. + </h2> + <p> + Hector continued his walk downtown. Despite the crowds of persons who + thronged the sidewalks, he did not anticipate meeting anyone else that he + knew. But he was destined to another surprise. On the corner of Murray + Street he saw two persons advancing toward him, the last, perhaps, that he + expected to see. Not to keep the reader in suspense, it was Allan Roscoe + and his son, Guy. + </p> + <p> + Guy was the first to recognize Hector. Of course, he, too, was surprised. + </p> + <p> + “Why, there’s Hector!” he exclaimed, directing his father’s attention to + our hero. + </p> + <p> + Allan Roscoe looked up quickly. It is hard to tell whether he felt glad or + the reverse at this meeting with the boy whom he called his ward. + </p> + <p> + An instant later Hector recognized Guy and his father. + </p> + <p> + “How do you do, Mr. Roscoe?” he said, politely. + </p> + <p> + “Very well. When did you reach New York?” + </p> + <p> + “On Saturday.” + </p> + <p> + It should have been explained that Hector had spent Sunday quietly with + Mr. Ross and Walter, and that this was Monday. + </p> + <p> + “Ahem! I was very much surprised at your leaving the institute,” said Mr. + Roscoe. + </p> + <p> + “I explained to you in my letter why I proposed to leave it,” Hector + answered, coldly. + </p> + <p> + “I did not think your reason sufficient.” + </p> + <p> + “As Mr. Smith saw fit to bring a base charge against me, and persisted in + it, even after he must have been convinced that his nephew was guilty, I + was unwilling to remain under his charge any longer.” + </p> + <p> + “The circumstances were against you,” said Mr. Roscoe. + </p> + <p> + “You might have known me better than that, Mr. Roscoe,” said Hector, + proudly. “Yet you condemned me unheard.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course, I am very glad that the charge is unfounded,” said Mr. Roscoe, + awkwardly. + </p> + <p> + “Where there is smoke there is generally fire,” said Guy, spitefully. + </p> + <p> + “I understand you, Guy,” said Hector, half turning to look at the boy who + had usurped his place. “I hope you won’t think it impolite if I say that I + care nothing whatever for your opinion.” + </p> + <p> + “You put on as many airs as ever,” sneered Guy. “I should think you would + be a little more humble in your changed position.” + </p> + <p> + “I have not changed, even if my position has,” answered Hector. “Money is + nothing to be proud of.” + </p> + <p> + “I apprehend that the world judges differently,” said Allan Roscoe. “Since + you have taken your destiny into your own hands, you will excuse me for + asking how you intend to earn your living?” + </p> + <p> + “I hope to get a mercantile position,” answered Hector. + </p> + <p> + “Take my advice,” said Guy, with a derisive smile, “and buy yourself a + blacking box and brush. I am told bootblacks make a good deal of money.” + </p> + <p> + “Hush, Guy!” said his father. “Do not insult Hector.” + </p> + <p> + But Hector concerned himself but little with any slight received from Guy + Roscoe. His words, however, recalled his thoughts to the boy he had so + recently met, Larry Deane, and he resolved to see if he could not help him + by an appeal to Allan Roscoe. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Roscoe,” said he, quickly, “I nearly forgot something I want very + much to say to you.” + </p> + <p> + “What is it?” asked his guardian, suspiciously. It occurred to him that + Hector wished to borrow some money, and he was considering how little he + could decently give him. + </p> + <p> + “I hear you have discharged Reuben Deane from his position?” + </p> + <p> + “How did you hear it?” + </p> + <p> + “From his son, Larry.” + </p> + <p> + “Where did you see Larry?” asked Allan, in some curiosity. + </p> + <p> + “He has been driven to take up that employment which Guy so kindly + recommended to me.” + </p> + <p> + “Larry Deane a bootblack! That’s a good one!” exclaimed Guy, with evident + relish. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t think so,” said Hector. “The poor boy is picking a poor living, + and sending home what he can to his father, who cannot get new employment. + Mr. Roscoe, why did you discharge him?” + </p> + <p> + “I can answer that question, though it’s none of your business all the + same,” volunteered Guy. “The boy Larry was impudent to me, and his father + took his part.” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Roscoe,” said Hector, “Reuben Deane was in my father’s employ before + I was born. Larry and I used to play together when we were little boys, + and since when we were older.” + </p> + <p> + “A bootblack is a nice playmate,” said Guy, with his usual sneer. + </p> + <p> + “He was not a bootblack then,” retorted Hector, “nor would he be now but + for your mean spite. Mr. Roscoe, as I happen to know, my father always + valued the services of Reuben Deane, and I ask, in his name, that you give + him back his place.” + </p> + <p> + “My brother may have been deceived in him,” said Allan Roscoe, coldly, + emphasizing the first two words, in order to remind Hector that he was no + longer to consider him as his father; “but I cannot promise to adopt all + his views and protege’s. I have displaced Deane and substituted for him a + gardener with whom I am better pleased.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you no sympathy for the poverty and distress of a man who has served + our family faithfully for so many years?” asked Hector, half indignantly. + </p> + <p> + “My father is competent to manage his own affairs,” said Guy, offensively. + </p> + <p> + “You don’t appear to think so, or you would not answer for him,” retorted + Hector. + </p> + <p> + “Boys, I must request you to desist from this bickering,” said Allan + Roscoe. “I am sorry, Hector, that I cannot comply with your request. By + the way, you did not tell me where you were staying.” + </p> + <p> + “With a gentleman on Forty-second Street.” + </p> + <p> + “What is his name?” + </p> + <p> + “Andrew Ross.” + </p> + <p> + “Not the eminent merchant of that name?” asked Allan Roscoe, in surprise. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I believe so.” + </p> + <p> + “He is worth a million.” + </p> + <p> + “I supposed he was rich. He lives in an elegant house.” + </p> + <p> + “Where did you get acquainted with him, Hector?” + </p> + <p> + “At Saratoga, a year and a half ago.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you beg him to take you in?” asked Guy, unpleasantly. + </p> + <p> + Hector quietly ignored the question. + </p> + <p> + “Walter Boss and I have been very intimate, and I was invited to pay him a + visit.” + </p> + <p> + “Does he know that you are a poor boy?” asked Guy. + </p> + <p> + “I have communicated to Mr. Ross what your father told me,” answered + Hector, coldly. “He is a real friend, and it made no difference in his + treatment of me. I hope to get a situation through his influence.” + </p> + <p> + “You are lucky to have such a man for a friend,” said Allan Roscoe, who + would himself have liked to become acquainted with a man whose social + position was so high. “I hope you will not misrepresent me to him. Should + any opportunity occur, I will try to procure you employment.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, sir,” said Hector, but his tone lacked heartiness. He saw that + his being a visitor to Mr. Ross and his son had made a difference in his + favor. Guy, too, began to think he might be a little more gracious. He, + like his father, liked to associate with boys of high social position, and + he would have liked to be introduced to Walter Ross. + </p> + <p> + “What is your number?” he asked of Hector, “I don’t know but I’ll call and + see you some time. Is Walter Ross generally at home?” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t put yourself to any inconvenience to call,” said Hector, + significantly. “Walter and I are generally away in the afternoon.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I don’t care to call upon you,” said Guy, annoyed. “I can have all + the company I want.” + </p> + <p> + “I won’t detain you any longer, Mr. Roscoe,” said Hector, realizing that + the conversation had occupied considerable time. “Good-morning.” + </p> + <p> + “That boy is as proud as ever,” said Guy, after Hector had left them. “He + doesn’t seem to realize that he has lost his money.” + </p> + <p> + “He has not had time to realize it yet. It won’t be long before he will + understand the difference it makes.” + </p> + <p> + “I am glad he isn’t my cousin,” continued Guy. “I dislike him more than + any boy I know.” + </p> + <p> + Allan Roscoe looked thoughtful. + </p> + <p> + “I fear that boy will give me trouble yet,” he said to himself. “He + evidently suspects that something is wrong.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0029" id="link2HCH0029"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIX. JIM SMITH EFFECTS A LOAN. + </h2> + <p> + After parting with Allan Roscoe and Guy, Hector kept on his way downtown. + He did not expect to meet any more acquaintances, but he was again to be + surprised. Standing on the sidewalk having his boots blacked, he + recognized the schoolfellow he had least reason to like—Jim Smith. + </p> + <p> + “What brings Jim here?” he asked himself, in some surprise. + </p> + <p> + He did not feel inclined to go up and claim acquaintance, but it chanced + that he became witness of a piece of meanness characteristic of Jim. + </p> + <p> + When the young bootblack had finished polishing his shoes, he waited for + his customary fee. + </p> + <p> + Jim fumbled in his pockets, and finally produced two cents. + </p> + <p> + “There, boy,” he said, placing them in the hand of the disgusted knight of + the brush. + </p> + <p> + “What’s that for?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “It’s your pay.” + </p> + <p> + “Look here, mister, you’ve made a mistake; here’s only two cents.” + </p> + <p> + “I know it.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you think I work for any such price as that?” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps you expect a dollar!” sneered Jim. + </p> + <p> + “No, I don’t; but a nickel’s my lowest price. Plenty of gentlemen give me + a dime.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s too much; I’ve paid you all I’m going to.” + </p> + <p> + “Wait a minute. That boot don’t look as well as the other.” + </p> + <p> + Jim unsuspiciously allowed the boy to complete his work, but he had + occasion to regret it. The bootblack hastily rubbed his brush in the mud + on the sidewalk and daubed it on one of Jim’s boots, quite effacing the + shine. + </p> + <p> + “There, that’ll do,” he said, and, scrambling to his feet, ran round the + corner. + </p> + <p> + Then, for the first time, Jim looked down, and saw what the boy had done. + He uttered an exclamation of disgust and looked round hastily to see where + the offender had betaken himself. His glance fell upon Hector, who was + quietly looking on, and not without a sense of enjoyment. + </p> + <p> + It often happens that we greet cordially those for whom we have even a + feeling of aversion when we meet them unexpectedly away from our usual + haunts. Jim, who was beginning to regret that circumstances had forced him + to leave the serene sanctuary of Smith Institute, since now he would be + under the necessity of making his own living, was glad to see our hero. + </p> + <p> + “Is it you, Roscoe?” he said, eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” answered Hector, coolly. + </p> + <p> + “What are you doing?” + </p> + <p> + “Walking about the city, just at present.” + </p> + <p> + “Suppose we go together.” + </p> + <p> + Hector hardly knew how to refuse, and the two boys kept down Broadway in + company. + </p> + <p> + “You’re surprised to see me, ain’t you?” asked Jim. + </p> + <p> + “Rather so.” + </p> + <p> + “You see, I got tired of the school. I’ve been there three years, so I + told my uncle I would come to New York and see if I couldn’t get work.” + </p> + <p> + “I hope you may succeed,” said Hector, for he would not allow his dislikes + to carry him too far. He felt that there was room in the world for Jim and + himself, too. + </p> + <p> + “Are you going to work?” asked Jim. + </p> + <p> + “I hope so.” + </p> + <p> + “Got anything in view?” + </p> + <p> + “Not exactly.’” + </p> + <p> + “It would be a good thing if we could get into the same place.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you say that because we have always agreed so well?” asked Hector, + amused. + </p> + <p> + “We may be better friends in future,” said Jim, with a grin. + </p> + <p> + Hector was judiciously silent. + </p> + <p> + “Where are you staying?” + </p> + <p> + “Up on Forty-second Street.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s a good way uptown, isn’t it?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, pretty far up.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you boarding?” + </p> + <p> + “No; I am visiting some friends.” + </p> + <p> + “Couldn’t you get me in there as one of your school friends?” + </p> + <p> + This question indicated such an amount of assurance on the part of his old + enemy that at first Hector did not know how to reply in fitting terms. + </p> + <p> + “I couldn’t take such a liberty with my friends,” he said. “Besides, it + doesn’t strike me that we were on very intimate terms.” + </p> + <p> + But Jim was not sensitive to a rebuff. + </p> + <p> + “The fact is,” he continued, “I haven’t got much money, and it would be + very convenient to visit somebody. Perhaps you could lend me five + dollars?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t think I could. I think I shall have to say good-morning.” + </p> + <p> + “I can’t make anything out of him,” said Jim to himself, philosophically. + “I wonder if he’s got any money. Uncle Socrates told me his uncle had cast + him off.” + </p> + <p> + Going up Broadway instead of down, it was not long before Jim met Allan + Roscoe and Guy, whom he immediately recognized. Not being troubled with + immodesty, he at once walked up to Mr. Roscoe and held out his hand. + </p> + <p> + “Good-morning, Mr. Roscoe!” he said, in an ingratiating voice. + </p> + <p> + “Good-morning, young man. Where have I met you?” asked Allan Roscoe, + puzzled. + </p> + <p> + “At Smith Institute. I am the nephew of Mr. Smith.” + </p> + <p> + “What! Not the nephew who—” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Roscoe found it hard to finish the sentence. He didn’t like to charge + Jim with stealing to his face. + </p> + <p> + “I know what you mean,” said Jim, boldly. “I am the one whom your nephew + charged with taking money which he took himself. I don’t want to say + anything against him, as he is your nephew, but he is an artful young—but + no matter. You are his uncle.” + </p> + <p> + “He is not my nephew, but was only cared for by my brother,” said Allan + Roscoe. “You may tell me freely, my good fellow, all the truth. You say + that Hector stole the money which your uncle lost.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; but he has made my uncle believe that I took it. It is hard upon + me,” said Jim, pathetically, “as I was dependent upon my uncle. I have + been driven forth into the cold world by my benefactor because your nephew + prejudiced his mind against me.” + </p> + <p> + “I believe him, papa,” said Guy, who was only too glad to believe anything + against Hector. “I have thought all along that Hector was guilty.” + </p> + <p> + “Is that your son?” asked the crafty Jim. “I wish he had come to the + institute, instead of Hector. He is a boy that I couldn’t help liking.” + </p> + <p> + There are few who are altogether inaccessible to flattery. At any rate, + Guy was not one of this small number. + </p> + <p> + “I feel sure you are not guilty,” said Guy, regarding Jim graciously. “It + was a very mean thing in Hector to get you into trouble.” + </p> + <p> + “It was, indeed,” said Jim. “I am cast out of my uncle’s house, and now I + have no home, and hardly any money.” + </p> + <p> + “Hector is in the city. Have you seen him?” asked Allan Roscoe. + </p> + <p> + “Yes; I met him a few minutes since.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you speak to him?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; I reproached him for getting me into trouble, but he only laughed in + my face. He told me he hated you both,” added Jim, ingenuously. + </p> + <p> + “Just like Hector!” said Guy. “What have I always told you, papa?” + </p> + <p> + “I am sorry you have suffered such injustice at the hands of anyone in any + way connected with my family,” said Mr. Roscoe, who, like Guy, was not + indisposed to believe anything to the discredit of Hector. “I do not feel + responsible for his unworthy acts, but I am willing to show my sympathy by + a small gift.” + </p> + <p> + He produced a five-dollar note and put it into Jim’s ready hand. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, sir,” he said. “You are a gentleman.” + </p> + <p> + So the interview closed, and Jim left the spot, chuckling at the manner in + which he had wheedled so respectable a sum out of Allan Roscoe. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile Hector, after looking about him, turned, and, getting into a + Broadway stage, rode uptown as far as Twenty-third Street, where the stage + turned down toward Sixth Avenue. He concluded to walk the remainder of the + way. + </p> + <p> + As he was walking up Madison Avenue, his attention was drawn to a little + girl in charge of a nursemaid. The latter met an acquaintance and forgot + her charge. The little girl, left to herself, attempted to cross the + street just as a private carriage was driven rapidly up the avenue. The + driver was looking away, and it seemed as if, through the double neglect + of the driver and the nurse, the poor child would be crushed beneath the + hoofs of the horses and the wheels of the carriage. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0030" id="link2HCH0030"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXX. A BRAVE DEED. + </h2> + <p> + Hector’s heart stood still as he realized the peril of the child. He + dashed forward on the impulse of the moment, and barely succeeded in + catching up the little girl and drawing her back out of harm’s way. The + driver, who had done his best to rein up his horses, but without success, + ejaculated with fervent gratitude, for he, too, had a child of his own + about the age of the little girl, “God bless you, boy.” + </p> + <p> + The little girl seemed less concerned than anyone of the spectators. She + put her hand confidently in Hector’s, and said: “Take me to Mary.” + </p> + <p> + “And who is Mary?” asked Hector, kindly. + </p> + <p> + He did not require an answer, for the nurse, who, rather late in the day, + had awakened to the fact that her charge was in danger, came running + forward, crying: “Oh! Miss Gracie, what made you run away?” + </p> + <p> + “The little girl would have been killed but for this boy’s timely help,” + said a middle-aged spectator, gravely. + </p> + <p> + “I’m sure I don’t know what possessed her to run away,” said Mary, + confusedly. + </p> + <p> + “She wouldn’t if she had been properly looked after,” said the gentleman, + sharply, for he had children of his own. + </p> + <p> + Hector was about to release the child, now that he had saved her, but she + was not disposed to let him go. + </p> + <p> + “You go with me, too!” she said. + </p> + <p> + She was a pretty child, with a sweet face, rimmed round by golden curls, + her round, red cheeks glowing with exercise. + </p> + <p> + “What is her name?” asked Hector, of the nurse. + </p> + <p> + “Grace Newman,” answered the nurse, who felt the necessity of saying + something in her own defense. “She’s a perfect little runaway. She worries + my life out running round after her.” + </p> + <p> + “Grace Newman!” said the middle-aged gentleman already referred to. “Why, + she must be the child of my friend, Titus Newman, of Pearl Street.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,” said the nurse. + </p> + <p> + “My old friend little knows what a narrow escape his daughter has had.” + </p> + <p> + “I hope you won’t tell him, sir,” said Mary, nervously. + </p> + <p> + “Why not?” + </p> + <p> + “Because he would blame me.” + </p> + <p> + “And so he ought!” said the gentleman, nodding vigorously. “It’s no merit + of yours that she wasn’t crushed beneath the wheels of that carriage. If + you had been attending to your duty, she wouldn’t have been in danger.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t see as it’s any business of yours,” said Mary, pertly. “You ain’t + her father, or her uncle.” + </p> + <p> + “I am a father, and have common humanity,” said the gentleman, “and I + consider you unfit for your place.” + </p> + <p> + “Come along, Grace!” said Mary, angry at being blamed. “You’ve behaved + very badly, and I’m going to take you home.” + </p> + <p> + “Won’t you come, too?” asked the little girl, turning to Hector. + </p> + <p> + “No, there’s no call for him to come,” said the nurse, pulling the child + away. + </p> + <p> + “Good-by, Gracie,” said Hector, kindly. + </p> + <p> + “Good-by!” responded the child. + </p> + <p> + “These nursemaids neglect their charges criminally,” said the gentleman, + directing his remarks to Hector. “Mr. Newman owes his child’s safety, + perhaps her life, to your prompt courage.” + </p> + <p> + “She was in great danger,” said Hector. “I was afraid at first I could not + save her.” + </p> + <p> + “A second later and it would have been too late. What is your name, my + brave young friend?” + </p> + <p> + “Hector Roscoe, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “It is a good name. Do you live in the city?” + </p> + <p> + “At present I do, sir. I was brought up in the country.” + </p> + <p> + “Going to school, I take it.” + </p> + <p> + “I am looking for a place, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “I wish I had one to give you. I retired from business two years since, + and have no employment for anyone.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, sir; I should have liked to serve you.” + </p> + <p> + “But I’ll tell you what, my young friend, I have a considerable + acquaintance among business men. If you will give me your address, I may + have something to communicate to you ere long.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, sir.” + </p> + <p> + Hector drew a card from his pocket, and added to it the number of Mr. + Ross’ house. + </p> + <p> + “I am much obliged to you for your kind offer,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “You don’t look as if you stood in need of employment,” said the + gentleman, noticing the fine material of which Hector’s suit was made. + </p> + <p> + “Appearances are sometimes deceitful,” said Hector, half smiling. + </p> + <p> + “You must have been brought up in affluence,” said Mr. Davidson, for this + was his name. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, I was. Till recently I supposed myself rich.” + </p> + <p> + “You shall tell me the story some time; now I must leave you.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” thought Hector, as he made his way homeward, “I have had + adventures enough for one morning.” + </p> + <p> + When Hector reached the house in Forty-second Street, he found Walter just + rising from his lessons. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Hector, what have you been doing?” asked Walter. + </p> + <p> + “Wandering about the city.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you see anybody you knew while doing so?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes! I was particularly favored. I saw Allan Roscoe and Guy—” + </p> + <p> + “You don’t say so! Were they glad to see you?” + </p> + <p> + “Not particularly. When Guy learned that I was staying here, he proposed + to call and make your acquaintance.” + </p> + <p> + “I hope you didn’t encourage him,” said Walter, with a grimace. + </p> + <p> + “No; I told him that we were generally out in the afternoon.” + </p> + <p> + “That is right.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose you have been hard at work, Walter?” + </p> + <p> + “Ask Mr. Crabb.” + </p> + <p> + “Walter has done very well,” said the usher. “If he will continue to study + as well, I shall have no fault to find.” + </p> + <p> + “If I do, will you qualify me to be a professor in twelve months’ time?” + </p> + <p> + “I hope not, for in that case I should lose my scholar, and have to bow to + his superior knowledge.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you don’t know everything, Mr. Crabb?” + </p> + <p> + “Far from it! I hope your father didn’t engage me in any such illusion.” + </p> + <p> + “Because,” said Walter, “I had one teacher who pretended to know all there + was worth knowing. I remember how annoyed he was once when I caught him in + a mistake in geography.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall not be annoyed at all when you find me out in a mistake, for I + don’t pretend to be very learned.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I think we’ll get along,” said Walter, favorably impressed by the + usher’s modesty. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose if I didn’t know anything we should get along even better,” + said Mr. Crabb, amused. + </p> + <p> + “Well, perhaps that might be carrying things too far!” Walter admitted. + </p> + <p> + In the afternoon Hector and Walter spent two hours at the gymnasium in + Twenty-eighth Street, and walked leisurely home after a healthful amount + of exercise. + </p> + <p> + For some reason, which he could not himself explain, Hector said nothing + to Walter about his rescue of the little girl on Madison Avenue, though he + heard of it at the gymnasium. + </p> + <p> + One of the boys, Henry Carroll, said to Walter: “There was a little girl + came near being run over on Madison Avenue this noon!” + </p> + <p> + “Did you see it?” + </p> + <p> + “No, but I heard of it.” + </p> + <p> + “Who was the little girl?” + </p> + <p> + “Grace Newman.” + </p> + <p> + “I know who she is. How did it happen?” + </p> + <p> + The boy gave a pretty correct account. + </p> + <p> + “Some boy saved her,” he concluded, “by running forward and hauling her + out of the road just in time. He ran the risk of being run over himself. + Mr. Newman thinks everything of little Grace. I’d like to be in that boy’s + shoes.” + </p> + <p> + Neither of the boys noticed that Hector’s face was flushed, as he listened + to the account of his own exploit. + </p> + <p> + The next morning, among the letters laid upon the breakfast table was one + for Hector Roscoe. + </p> + <p> + “A letter for you, Hector,” said Mr. Ross, examining the envelope in some + surprise. “Are you acquainted with Titus Newman, the Pearl Street + merchant?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir,” answered Hector, in secret excitement. + </p> + <p> + “He seems to have written to you,” said Mr. Ross. + </p> + <p> + Hector took the letter and tore open the envelope. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0031" id="link2HCH0031"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXI. AN IMPORTANT LETTER. + </h2> + <p> + The letter alluded to in the last chapter ran thus. It was written from + Mr. Newman’s house in Madison Avenue, though inclosed in a business + envelope: + </p> + <p> + “MASTER HECTOR ROSCOE: I learn that I am indebted to you for the rescue of + my little daughter from imminent peril during my absence from home + yesterday. A friend who witnessed her providential escape has given me + such an account of your bravery in risking your own life to save that of + an unknown child, that I cannot rest till I have had an opportunity of + thanking you in person. You will do me a favor, if not otherwise engaged, + if you will call at my house this evening, about eight o’clock. Yours + gratefully, + </p> + <p> + “Titus NEWMAN.” + </p> + <p> + It is needless to say that Hector read this letter with feelings of + gratification. It is true, as we are often told, that “virtue is its own + reward,” but it is, nevertheless, pleasant to feel that our efforts to do + well and serve others are appreciated. + </p> + <p> + “No bad news, I hope, Hector?” said Walter. + </p> + <p> + “No,” answered Hector. “You may read the letter, if you like, Mr. Ross.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Ross did so, and aloud, much to the surprise of everyone at table. + </p> + <p> + “You did not tell me of this,” said Walter, in astonishment. + </p> + <p> + “No,” answered Hector, smiling. + </p> + <p> + “But why not?” + </p> + <p> + “Because Hector is modest,” Mr. Ross answered for him. “Now, if you had + done such a thing, Walter, we should have been sure to hear of it.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know,” returned Walter, comically. “You don’t know how many lives + I have saved within the last few years.” + </p> + <p> + “Nor anyone else, I fancy,” replied his father. “By the way, Hector, there + is a paragraph about it in the Herald of this morning. I read it, little + suspecting that you were the boy whose name the reporter was unable to + learn.” + </p> + <p> + Hector read the paragraph in question with excusable pride. It was, in the + main, correct. + </p> + <p> + “How old was the little girl?” asked Walter. + </p> + <p> + “Four years old, I should think.” + </p> + <p> + “That isn’t quite so romantic as if she had been three times as old.” + </p> + <p> + “I couldn’t have rescued her quite as easily, in that case.” + </p> + <p> + Of course, Hector was called upon for an account of the affair, which he + gave plainly, without adding any of those embellishments which some boys, + possibly some of my young readers, might have been tempted to put in. + </p> + <p> + “You are fortunate to have obliged a man like Titus Newman, Hector,” said + Mr. Ross. “He is a man of great wealth and influence.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you know him, papa?” asked Walter. + </p> + <p> + “No—that is, not at all well. I have been introduced to him.” + </p> + <p> + Punctually at eight o’clock Hector ascended the steps of a handsome + residence on Madison Avenue. The door was opened by a colored servant, of + imposing manners. + </p> + <p> + “Is Mr. Newman at home?” asked Hector, politely. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sar.” + </p> + <p> + “Be kind enough to hand him this card?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sar.” + </p> + <p> + Presently the servant reappeared, saying: + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Newman will see you, sar, in the library. I will induct you thither.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” answered Hector, secretly amused at the airs put on by his + sable conductor. + </p> + <p> + Seated at a table, in a handsomely furnished library, sat a stout + gentleman of kindly aspect. He rose quickly from his armchair and advanced + to meet our hero. + </p> + <p> + “I am glad to see you, my young friend,” he said. “Sit there,” pointing to + a smaller armchair opposite. “So you are the boy who rescued my dear + little girl?” + </p> + <p> + His voice softened as he uttered these last few words, and it was easy to + see how strong was the paternal love that swelled his heart. + </p> + <p> + “I was fortunate in having the opportunity, Mr. Newman.” + </p> + <p> + “You have rendered me a service I can never repay. When I think that but + for you the dear child—” his voice faltered. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t think of it, Mr. Newman,” said Hector, earnestly. “I don’t like to + think of it myself.” + </p> + <p> + “And you exposed yourself to great danger, my boy!” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose I did, sir; but that did not occur to me at the time. It was + all over in an instant.” + </p> + <p> + “I see you are modest, and do not care to take too great credit to + yourself, but I shall not rest till I have done something to express my + sense of your noble courage. Now, I am a man of business, and it is my + custom to come to the point directly. Is there any way in which I can + serve you.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “I am glad to hear it. Name it.” + </p> + <p> + “I am looking for a situation in some mercantile establishment, Mr. + Newman.” + </p> + <p> + “Pardon me, but, judging from your appearance, I should not suppose that + it was a matter of importance to you.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir; I am poor.” + </p> + <p> + “You don’t look so.” + </p> + <p> + “You judge from my dress, no doubt”—Hector was attired in a suit of + fine texture—“I suppose I may say,” he added, with a smile, “that I + have seen better days.” + </p> + <p> + “Surely, you are young to have met with reverses, if that is what you mean + to imply,” the merchant remarked, observing our hero with some curiosity. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir; if you have time, I will explain to you how it happened.” + </p> + <p> + As the story has already been told, I will not repeat Hector’s words. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Newman listened with unaffected interest. + </p> + <p> + “It is certainly a curious story,” he said. “Did you, then, quietly + surrender your claims to the estate simply upon your uncle’s unsupported + assertion?” + </p> + <p> + “I beg pardon, sir. He showed me my father’s—that is, Mr. Roscoe’s—letter.” + </p> + <p> + “Call him your father, for I believe he was.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you, sir?” asked Hector, eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “I do. Your uncle’s story looks like an invention. Let me think, was your + father’s name Edward Roscoe?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “And in what year were you born?” + </p> + <p> + “In the year 1856.” + </p> + <p> + “At Sacramento?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I feel quite sure that I made your father’s acquaintance in the + succeeding year, and your own as well, though you were an infant—that + is, you were less than a year old.” + </p> + <p> + “Did my father say anything of having adopted me?” + </p> + <p> + “No; on the contrary, he repeatedly referred to you as his child, and your + mother also displayed toward you an affection which would have been at + least unusual if you had not been her own child.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you think, sir—” Hector began. + </p> + <p> + “I think that your uncle’s story is a mere fabrication. He has contrived a + snare in which you have allowed yourself to be enmeshed.” + </p> + <p> + “I am only a boy, sir. I supposed there was nothing for me to do but to + yield possession of the estate when my uncle showed me the letter.” + </p> + <p> + “It was natural enough; and your uncle doubtless reckoned upon your + inexperience and ignorance of the law.” + </p> + <p> + “What would you advise me to do, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “Let me think.” + </p> + <p> + The merchant leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes, and gave himself + up to reflection. In the midst of his reverie the pompous servant entered, + bringing a letter upon a silver salver. + </p> + <p> + “A letter, sar,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “That will do. You can go, Augustus.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sar.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Newman glanced at the postmark, tore open the letter, read it with a + frown, and then, as if he had suddenly formed a resolution, he said: + </p> + <p> + “This letter has helped me to a decision.” + </p> + <p> + Hector regarded him with surprise. What could the letter have to do with + him? + </p> + <p> + “Have you any objection to going out to California by the next steamer?” + asked Mr. New-man. + </p> + <p> + “No, sir,” answered Hector, with animation “Am I to go alone?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, alone.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0032" id="link2HCH0032"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXII. A WAYWARD YOUTH. + </h2> + <p> + It is needless to say that Hector was very much surprised, not to say + startled, at this sudden proposal. What could Mr. Newman possibly want him + to go to California for? If on business, how did it happen that he trusted + a mere boy with so responsible a mission? + </p> + <p> + The explanation came soon. + </p> + <p> + “No doubt, you are surprised,” said the merchant, “at the proposal I have + made you. I am not prepared myself to say that I am acting with good + judgment. In making it, I have obeyed a sudden impulse, which is not + always prudent. Yet, in more than one instance, I have found advantage in + obeying such an impulse. But to my explanation. By the way, let me first + ask you two or three questions. Have you any taste for any kind of + liquor?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir,” answered Hector, promptly. + </p> + <p> + “Even if you had, do you think you would have self-control enough to avoid + entering saloons and gratifying your tastes?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “That is well. Do you play pool?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir,” answered Hector, wondering whither all these questions tended. + </p> + <p> + “I ask because playing pool in public rooms paves the way for + intemperance, as bars are generally connected with such establishments.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t even know how to play pool, sir,” said Hector. + </p> + <p> + “Do you ever bet or gamble?” continued the merchant. + </p> + <p> + “No, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “You will understand why I ask all these questions when I tell you that I + have a nephew now nineteen years of age, who does all these things. He is + not only my nephew, but my ward. I have a moderate sum of money in my + charge which belongs to him—enough, if he were a young man of + correct habits, to buy him an interest in a respectable business. That use + I had proposed to make of it when he reached twenty-one, or rather, to + recommend to him, but for his yielding to temptation in more than one + form, and, finally, running away from my protection.” + </p> + <p> + “Where is he now, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “In California. Three months since he disappeared, and it was some weeks + before I learned where he had gone. As I do not intend to conceal anything + from you, I must tell you that he carried with him five hundred dollars + purloined from my desk. This grieved me most of all. I wrote out to a + mercantile friend in San Francisco, who knows the boy by sight, to hunt + him up, and see if he could do anything for him. He writes me—this + is the letter I hold in my hand—that he has seen Gregory, and + expostulated with him, but apparently without effect. The boy has pretty + much run through his money, and will soon be in need. I do not intend, + however, to send him money, for he would misuse it. I don’t think it will + do him any harm to suffer a little privation, as a fitting punishment for + his wayward courses. I would not wish him to suffer too much, and I am + anxious lest he should go further astray. I now come to the explanation of + my proposal to you. I wish you to go to California, to seek out Gregory, + obtain his confidence, and then persuade him to give up his bad course, + and come home with you, prepared to lead a worthier life. Are you willing + to undertake it?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,” answered Hector. “I will undertake it, since you are willing + to place such a responsibility upon me. I will do my best to accomplish + what you desire, but I may fail.” + </p> + <p> + “In that case I will not blame you,” answered the merchant. + </p> + <p> + “What sort of a boy is Gregory? Shall I find it difficult to gain his + confidence?” + </p> + <p> + “No; he is a youth of very amiable disposition—indeed, he was + generally popular among his companions and associates, but he is morally + weak, and finds it difficult to cope with temptation. I believe that a boy + like you will stand a better chance of influencing him than a man of + mature age.” + </p> + <p> + “I will do my best, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “One thing more. You may assure Gregory that I forgive him the theft of my + money, though it gave me great pain to find him capable of such an act, + and that I am prepared to receive him back into my favor if he will show + himself worthy of it. I will give you a letter to that effect. Now, when + will you be ready to start?” + </p> + <p> + “By the next steamer.” + </p> + <p> + “That is well.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0033" id="link2HCH0033"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXIII. MR. ROSCOE MAKES A DISCOVERY. + </h2> + <p> + The California steamer was to start in two days. This gave Hector but + little time for preparation, but then he had but scanty preparation to + make. Mr. Ross and Walter were naturally surprised at the confidence + placed in Hector by a stranger, but were inclined to think that our hero + would prove himself worthy of it. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t be gone long, Hector,” said Walter. “I shall miss you. I depended + upon having your company for a good while yet.” + </p> + <p> + “Come back to my house, Hector,” said Mr. Ross, cordially, “when you + return, whether you are successful or not. Consider it a home where you + are always welcome.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, sir,” said Hector, gratefully. “I wish you were my uncle + instead of Mr. Allan Roscoe.” + </p> + <p> + “By the way, Hector, take time, while you are in California, to go to + Sacramento to see if you can learn anything of your early history. It is + most important to you, and I’m sure Mr. Newman will not object.” + </p> + <p> + “He has already suggested it to me,” said Hector. “Moreover, he has given + me the name of the minister who baptized me, and, should he be dead or + removed, he has given me the name of another person—a lady—with + whom my father boarded during his residence in Sacramento.” + </p> + <p> + “It is to be hoped that one or the other of these persons may still be + living. It will afford me sincere pleasure if, by reliable testimony, you + can defeat the wicked conspiracy into which Mr. Roscoe has entered, with + the object of defrauding you of your inheritance.” + </p> + <p> + Hector’s ticket was purchased by Mr. Newman, and he was provided with a + considerable sum of money as well as an order upon a bank in San Francisco + for as much more as he might need. + </p> + <p> + “You are trusting me to an unusual extent, Mr. Newman,” said Hector. + </p> + <p> + “That is true, but I have no hesitation in doing so. I am a close + observer, and, though I have seen but little of you, I have seen enough to + inspire me with confidence.” + </p> + <p> + “I hope I shall deserve it, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “That depends upon yourself, so far as integrity and fidelity go. Whether + you succeed or not in your undertaking depends partly upon circumstances.” + </p> + <p> + My young readers may wonder how Hector would be expected to recognize a + young man whom he had never seen. He was provided with a photograph of + Gregory, which had been taken but six months before, and which, as Mr. + Newman assured him, bore a strong resemblance to his nephew. + </p> + <p> + “He may have changed his name,” he said, “but he cannot change his face. + With this picture you will be able to identify him.” + </p> + <p> + The great steamer started on her long voyage. Walter and Mr. Crabb stood + on the pier and watched it till Hector’s face was no longer + distinguishable for the distance, and then went home, each feeling that he + had sustained a loss. + </p> + <p> + Among those who watched the departure of the steamer was a person who + escaped Hector’s notice, for he arrived just too late to bid good-by to an + acquaintance who was a passenger on board. + </p> + <p> + This person was no other than Allan Roscoe. + </p> + <p> + When he recognized Hector’s face among the passengers he started in + surprise and alarm. + </p> + <p> + “Hector Roscoe going to California!” he inwardly ejaculated. “What can be + his object, and where did he raise money to go?” + </p> + <p> + Conscience whispered: “He has gone to ferret out the fraud which you have + practiced upon him, and his mission is fraught with peril to you.” + </p> + <p> + Allan Roscoe returned to his elegant home in a state of nervous agitation, + which effectually prevented him from enjoying the luxuries he was now able + to command. A sword seemed suspended over him, but he resolved not to give + up the large stake for which he played so recklessly without a further + effort. + </p> + <p> + By the next mail he wrote a confidential letter to an old acquaintance in + San Francisco. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0034" id="link2HCH0034"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXIV. FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF SAN FRANCISCO. + </h2> + <p> + Hector was seasick for the first twenty-four hours, but at the end of that + time he had become accustomed to the rise and fall of the billows, and was + prepared to enjoy himself as well as he could in the confined quarters of + an ocean steamer. + </p> + <p> + Of course, he made acquaintances. Among them was a clergyman, of middle + age, who was attracted by our hero’s frank countenance. They met on deck, + and took together the “constitutional” which travelers on shipboard find + essential for their health. + </p> + <p> + “You seem to be alone?” said the clergyman. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Pardon me, but it is uncommon to meet one so young as yourself who is + making so long a journey. I suppose, however, you have friends or + relatives in California.” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir; I know no one, to my knowledge, in the Golden State.” + </p> + <p> + “Then, perhaps, you go out in search of employment?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir; I go out on business.” + </p> + <p> + “You are a young business man,” said the clergyman, smiling. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps I should rather say, on a mission. I am sent out, by a New York + merchant, in search of his nephew, who is somewhere in San Francisco.” + </p> + <p> + Hector explained himself further. The minister, Mr. Richards, listened + with attention. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly,” he said, “a great responsibility rests upon you. Mr. Newman + must have great confidence in you.” + </p> + <p> + “I hope he will not find it misplaced,” answered Hector, modestly. + </p> + <p> + “It is certainly a compliment to you that a shrewd business man should + consider you worthy of such confidence. The presumption is that he has + good reason for his confidence. I think, my young friend, that you will + enjoy your visit to our State.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you reside there, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes. I went out twenty years since; in fact, just after I graduated + from the theological school. I spent a year at the mines; but, at the end + of that time, finding an opening in my profession, I accepted the charge + of a church in Sacramento.” + </p> + <p> + “In Sacramento?” exclaimed Hector, eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Have you any associations with that city?” + </p> + <p> + “It is my birthplace, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you are not a stranger to California?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir; I came away so early that I have no recollection of the place.” + </p> + <p> + “What is your name?” asked the clergyman. + </p> + <p> + “Hector Roscoe.” + </p> + <p> + “Roscoe? The name sounds familiar to me,” said the minister, thoughtfully. + </p> + <p> + “How long since you went to Sacramento, Mr. Richards?” + </p> + <p> + “I went there in 1855.” + </p> + <p> + “And I was born there in 1856. My father and mother lived there for some + time afterwards.” + </p> + <p> + “It is probable that I met them, for Sacramento was a small place then. + Shall you go there?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir. I have a special reason for going—a reason most important + to me.” + </p> + <p> + As Mr. Richards naturally looked inquisitive, Hector confided in him + further. + </p> + <p> + “You see, sir,” he concluded, “that it is most important to me to + ascertain whether I am really the son of the man whom I have always + regarded as my father. If so, I am heir to a large fortune. If not, my + uncle is the heir, and I certainly should not wish to disturb him in the + enjoyment of what the law awards him.” + </p> + <p> + “That is quite proper,” said Mr. Richards. “In your investigation, it is + quite possible that I may be able to help you materially, through my long + residence and extensive acquaintance in Sacramento. When you come there, + lose no time in calling upon me. Whatever help I can render you shall + cheerfully be given.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Shall you be much disappointed if you find that you are only the adopted, + instead of the real, son of Mr. Roscoe?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir; but it won’t be chiefly on account of the property. I shall + feel alone in the world, without relations or family connections, with no + one to sympathize with me in my successes, or feel for me in my + disappointments.” + </p> + <p> + “I understand you, and I can enter into your feelings.” + </p> + <p> + Arrived in San Francisco, Hector took lodgings at a comfortable hotel on + Kearney Street. He didn’t go to the Palace Hotel, or Baldwin’s, though Mr. + Newman had supplied him with ample funds, and instructed him to spend + whatever he thought might be necessary. + </p> + <p> + “I mean to show myself worthy of his confidence,” said Hector to himself. + </p> + <p> + He arrived in the evening, and was glad to remain quietly at the hotel the + first evening, and sleep off the effects of his voyage. After the + contracted stateroom, in which he had passed over twenty days, he enjoyed + the comfort and luxury of a bed on shore and a good-sized bedroom. But, in + the morning, he took a long walk, which was full of interest. Less than + five minutes’ walk from his hotel was the noted Chinese quarter. Curiously + enough, it is located in the central part of the business portion of San + Francisco. Set a stranger down in this portion of the city, and the + traveler finds it easy to imagine himself in some Chinese city. All around + him, thronging the sidewalks, he will see almond-eyed men, wearing long + queues, and clad in the comfortable, but certainly not elegant, flowing + garments which we meet only occasionally in our Eastern cities, on the + person of some laundryman. Then the houses, too, with the curious names on + the signs, speak of a far-off land. On every side, also, is heard the + uncouth jargon of the Chinese tongue. + </p> + <p> + There is a part of San Francisco that is known as the Barbary Coast. It is + that part which strangers will do well to avoid, for it is the haunt of + the worst portion of the population. Here floats many a hopeless wreck, in + the shape of a young man, who has yielded to the seductions of drink and + the gaming table—who has lost all hope and ambition, and is fast + nearing destruction. + </p> + <p> + If Hector allowed himself to explore this quarter, it was not because he + found anything to attract him, for his tastes were healthy, but he + thought, from the description of Gregory Newman, that he would stand a + better chance of meeting him here than in a more respectable quarter. + </p> + <p> + Hector halted in front of a building, which he judged to be a gambling + house. He did not care to enter, but he watched, with curiosity, those who + entered and those who came out. + </p> + <p> + As he was standing there, a man of forty touched him on the shoulder. + </p> + <p> + Hector turned, and was by no means attracted by the man’s countenance. He + was evidently a confirmed inebriate, though not at that time under the + influence of liquor. There was an expression of cunning, which repelled + Hector, and he drew back. + </p> + <p> + “I say, boy,” said the stranger, “do you want to go in?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “If you do, I know the ropes, and I’ll introduce you and take care of + you.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” said Hector, “but I don’t care to go in.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you afraid?” asked the man, with a slight sneer. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Haven’t I a reason?” + </p> + <p> + “Come, sonny, don’t be foolish. Have you any money?” + </p> + <p> + “A little.” + </p> + <p> + “Give it to me and I’ll play for you. I’ll double it in ten minutes, and + I’ll only ask you five dollars for my services.” + </p> + <p> + “Suppose you lose?” + </p> + <p> + “I won’t lose,” said the man, confidently. “Come,” he said, in a wheedling + tone, “let me make some money for you.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, but I would rather not. I don’t want to make money in any such + way.” + </p> + <p> + “You’re a fool!” said the man, roughly, and with an air of disgust he left + the spot, much to Hector’s relief. + </p> + <p> + Still Hector lingered, expecting he hardly knew what, but it chanced that + fortune favored him. He was just about to turn away, when a youth, two or + three years older than himself in appearance, came out of the gambling + house. He was pale, and looked as if he had kept late hours. He had the + appearance, also, of one who indulges in drink. + </p> + <p> + When Hector’s glance fell upon the face of the youth, he started in great + excitement. + </p> + <p> + “Surely,” he thought, “that must be Gregory Newman!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0035" id="link2HCH0035"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXV. THE PRODIGAL. + </h2> + <p> + As the best way of getting into communication with the youth whom he + suspected to be the object of his search, Hector asked him the name of the + street. + </p> + <p> + On receiving an answer, he said, in an explanatory way: + </p> + <p> + “I am a stranger here. I only arrived on the last steamer.” + </p> + <p> + The other looked interested. + </p> + <p> + “Where do you come from?” + </p> + <p> + “From New York.” + </p> + <p> + “I used to live there,” said Gregory—for it was he—with a + sigh. + </p> + <p> + “Have you bettered yourself by coming out here?” asked Hector. + </p> + <p> + Gregory shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “No,” he said; “I begin to think I was a fool to come at all.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps you had poor prospects in New York?” said Hector. + </p> + <p> + “No; my uncle is a rich merchant there. I have some property, also, and he + is my guardian.” + </p> + <p> + “Did he favor your coming?” + </p> + <p> + “No; he was very much opposed to it.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps I ought not to take such a liberty, but I begin to agree with you + about your being a fool to leave such prospects behind you.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I am not offended. It is true enough.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose you haven’t prospered, then,” said Hector. + </p> + <p> + “Prospered? Look at me! Do you see how shabby I am?” + </p> + <p> + Gregory certainly did look shabby. His clothes were soiled and frayed, and + he had the appearance of a young tramp. + </p> + <p> + “That isn’t the worst of it,” he added, bitterly. “I have spent my last + cent, and am penniless.” + </p> + <p> + “That is bad, certainly. Did you lose any of it in there?” said Hector, + indicating the gaming house. + </p> + <p> + “I have lost full half of it there,” answered Gregory. “This morning I + found myself reduced to four bits—” + </p> + <p> + “To what?” inquired Hector, puzzled. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I forgot you had just arrived. Four bits is fifty cents. Well, I was + reduced to that, and, instead of saving it for my dinner, I went in there + and risked it. If I had been lucky, I might have raised it to ten dollars, + as a man next to me did; but I’m out of luck, and I don’t know what to + do.” + </p> + <p> + “Why don’t you go back to your uncle in New York?” + </p> + <p> + “What! and walk all the way without food?” said Gregory, bitterly. + </p> + <p> + “Of course you couldn’t go without money. Suppose you had the money, would + you go?” + </p> + <p> + “I should be afraid to try it,” said Gregory, smiling. + </p> + <p> + “Why? Don’t you think he would receive you back?” + </p> + <p> + “He might but for one thing,” answered Gregory. + </p> + <p> + “What is that?” + </p> + <p> + “I may as well tell you, though I am ashamed to,” said Gregory, + reluctantly. “I left New York without his knowledge, and, as I knew he + wouldn’t advance me money out of my own property, I took five hundred + dollars from his desk.” + </p> + <p> + “That was bad,” said Hector, quietly, but he didn’t look shocked or + terror-stricken, for this would probably have prevented any further + confidence. + </p> + <p> + “It wasn’t exactly stealing,” said Gregory, apologetically, “for I knew he + could keep back the money from my property. Still, he could represent it + as such and have me arrested.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t think he would do that.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t want to run the risk. You see now why I don’t dare to go back to + New York. But what on earth I am to do here I don’t know.” + </p> + <p> + “Couldn’t you get employment?” asked Hector, for he wished Gregory to + understand his position fully. + </p> + <p> + “What! in this shabby suit? Respectable business men would take me for a + hoodlum.” + </p> + <p> + Hector knew already that a “hoodlum” in San Francisco parlance is a term + applied to street loafers from fifteen to twenty-five years of age, who + are disinclined to work and have a premature experience of vice. + </p> + <p> + “Suppose you were assured that your uncle would receive you back and give + you another chance?” + </p> + <p> + Gregory shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t believe he would, and I am afraid I don’t deserve it. No, I must + try to get to the mines in some way. How are you fixed?” said Gregory, + turning suddenly to Hector. “Could you spare a five-dollar gold piece for + a chap that’s been unfortunate?” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps I might; but I am afraid you would go back into the gambling + house and lose it, as you did your other money.” + </p> + <p> + “No, I won’t; I promise you that. Four bits was nothing. Five dollars + would give me a chance of going somewhere where I could earn a living.” + </p> + <p> + Gregory seemed to speak sincerely, and Hector thought it would do him no + harm to reveal himself and his errand. + </p> + <p> + “Your name is Gregory Newman, isn’t it?” he inquired. + </p> + <p> + Gregory stared at him in uncontrollable amazement. + </p> + <p> + “How do you know that?” he inquired. + </p> + <p> + “And your uncle’s name is Titus Newman?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but—” + </p> + <p> + “He lives on Madison Avenue, does he not?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes; but who are you that seem to know so much about me?” + </p> + <p> + “My name is Hector Roscoe.” + </p> + <p> + “Did I know you in New York?” + </p> + <p> + “No; I never met you, to my knowledge.” + </p> + <p> + “Then how do you recognize me and know my name?” + </p> + <p> + In answer, Hector took from his pocket a photograph of Gregory and + displayed it. + </p> + <p> + “How did you come by that?” asked Gregory, hurriedly. “Are you a + detective?” + </p> + <p> + Gregory looked so startled that Hector had hard work not to laugh. It + seemed ludicrous to him that he should be supposed to be a detective on + Gregory’s track, as the boy evidently suspected. + </p> + <p> + “No,” he answered, “I am not a detective, but a friend. I have come out to + San Francisco especially to find you.” + </p> + <p> + “You won’t inform against me?” asked Gregory, nervously. + </p> + <p> + “Not at all. I come as a friend, with a message from your uncle—” + </p> + <p> + “What is it?” asked Gregory, eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “He wants you to come back to New York, and he will give you another + chance.” + </p> + <p> + “Is this true?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; will you come?” + </p> + <p> + “I shall be glad to leave San Francisco,” said Gregory, fervently. “I have + had no luck since I arrived here.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you think you deserved any?” said Hector, significantly. + </p> + <p> + “No, perhaps not,” Gregory admitted. + </p> + <p> + “When will you be ready to return?” + </p> + <p> + “You forget that I have no money.” + </p> + <p> + “I have, and will pay your passage.” + </p> + <p> + Gregory grasped the hands of our hero gratefully. + </p> + <p> + “You are a trump!” said he. + </p> + <p> + Then he looked at his wretched and dilapidated suit. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t like to go home like this,” he said. “I should be mortified if I + met my uncle or any of my old acquaintances.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that can be remedied,” said Hector. “If you can lead the way to a + good clothing house, where the prices are moderate, I will soon improve + your appearance.” + </p> + <p> + “That I will!” answered Gregory, gladly. + </p> + <p> + Within five minutes’ walk was a good clothing house, on Kearney Street. + The two entered, and a suit was soon found to fit Gregory. Then they + obtained a supply of underclothing, and Gregory breathed a sigh of + satisfaction. His self-respect returned, and he felt once more like his + old self. + </p> + <p> + “Now,” said Hector, “I shall take you to my hotel, and enter your name as + a guest. You and I can room together.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you know,” said Gregory, “I almost fear this is a dream, and that I + shall wake up again a tramp, as you found me half an hour ago? I was + almost in despair when you met me.” + </p> + <p> + Though Gregory seemed quite in earnest in his desire to turn over a new + leaf, Hector thought it prudent to keep the funds necessary for their + journey in his own possession. He gave a few dollars to Gregory as + spending money, but disregarded any hints looking to a further advance. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0036" id="link2HCH0036"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXVI. HOW HECTOR SUCCEEDED IN SACRAMENTO. + </h2> + <p> + Now that Hector had succeeded in the main object of his journey, he had + time to think of his own affairs. It was most important for him to visit + Sacramento and make inquiries into the matter that so nearly concerned + him. + </p> + <p> + “I must find out,” he said to himself, “whether I am entitled to the name + I bear, or whether I only received it by adoption.” + </p> + <p> + The second day after his discovery of Gregory Newman, he said to him: + </p> + <p> + “Gregory, business of importance calls me to Sacramento. Do you wish to go + with me?” + </p> + <p> + “Does the business in any way relate to me?” asked Gregory. + </p> + <p> + “Not at all.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I prefer to remain in San Francisco.” + </p> + <p> + “Can I trust you not to fall back into your old ways?” asked Hector. + </p> + <p> + “Yes; I have had enough of them,” answered Gregory, and there was a + sincerity in his tone which convinced Hector that he might safely leave + him. + </p> + <p> + “I shall probably stay overnight,” he said. “If I stay any longer, I will + telegraph to you.” + </p> + <p> + Arrived in Sacramento, Hector sought out the residence of the Rev. Mr. + Richards, whose acquaintance he had made on board the steamer. + </p> + <p> + His clerical friend received him with evident pleasure. + </p> + <p> + “How have you fared, my young friend?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Very well, sir. I have succeeded in my mission.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you have found the youth you were in search of?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir; moreover, I have induced him to return home with me, and turn + over a new leaf.” + </p> + <p> + “That is indeed good news. And now, I think I have also good news for + you.” + </p> + <p> + “Please let me know it, sir,” said Hector, eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “I have found the lady with whom your father and mother boarded while they + were in Sacramento.” + </p> + <p> + “What does she say?” + </p> + <p> + “She says,” answered Mr. Richards, promptly, “that you are Mr. Roscoe’s + own son, and were born in her house.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank Heaven!” ejaculated Hector. + </p> + <p> + “Nor is this all. I have found the minister who baptized you. He is still + living, at a very advanced age—the Rev. Mr. Barnard. I called upon + him, and recalled his attention to the period when your father lived in + the city. I found that he remembered both your parents very well. Not only + that, but he has a very full diary covering that time, in which he showed + me this record: + </p> + <p> + “‘Baptized, June 17th, Hector, the son of Thomas and Martha Roscoe; a + bright, healthy child, in whom the parents much delight.” + </p> + <p> + “Then it seems to me,” said Hector, “that my case is a very strong one.” + </p> + <p> + “Unusually so. In fact, it could not be stronger. I marvel how Allan + Roscoe, your uncle, could have ventured upon a fraud which could be so + easily proved to be such.” + </p> + <p> + “He depended upon Sacramento being so far away,” said Hector. “He thought + I would accept my father’s letter without question.” + </p> + <p> + “That letter was undoubtedly forged,” said the minister. + </p> + <p> + “It must have been, but it was very cleverly forged. The handwriting was a + very close copy of my father’s.” It was a great pleasure to Hector that he + could say “my father” without a moment’s doubt that he was entitled to say + so. + </p> + <p> + “He thought, also, that you would not have the means to come here to + investigate for yourself,” said Mr. Richards. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and he would have been right but for the commission Mr. Newman gave + me. What course would you advise me to take,” asked Hector, a little + later, “to substantiate my claim?” + </p> + <p> + “Get Mrs. Blodgett’s and Rev. Mr. Barnard’s sworn affidavits, and place + them in the hands of a reliable lawyer, requesting him to communicate with + your uncle.” + </p> + <p> + This advice seemed to Hector to be wise, and he followed it. Fortunately, + he had no difficulty in inducing both parties to accede to his request. + The next day he returned to San Francisco. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0037" id="link2HCH0037"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXVII. A NARROW ESCAPE. + </h2> + <p> + Armed with the affidavits which were to restore to him the position in + life of which his uncle had wickedly deprived him, Hector returned to San + Francisco. He found Gregory unaffectedly glad to see him. + </p> + <p> + “Glad to see you back, Hector,” he said; “I missed you.” + </p> + <p> + Hector was glad to find that Gregory had not taken advantage of his + absence to indulge in any of his old excesses. He began to hope that he + had already turned over the new leaf which was so desirable. + </p> + <p> + “I know what you are thinking of,” said Gregory, after Hector had returned + his salutation. “You are wondering whether I ‘cut up’ any while you were + gone.” + </p> + <p> + “You don’t look as if you had,” said Hector, smiling. + </p> + <p> + “No; I have had enough of sowing wild oats. It doesn’t pay. Shall I tell + you what I did last evening?” + </p> + <p> + “If you like.” + </p> + <p> + “I attended a lecture illustrated with the stereopticon. I was in bed at + ten.” + </p> + <p> + “Gregory,” said Hector, taking his hand, “you don’t know how glad I am to + hear this. I am sure your uncle will be delighted when you return to him + so changed.” + </p> + <p> + “I’ve made a great fool of myself,” said Gregory, candidly. “Hereafter I + am going to make you my model.” + </p> + <p> + Hector blushed deeply, for he was a modest boy. + </p> + <p> + “You compliment me too much, Gregory,” he said. “Still, if you are in + earnest, I will try to set you a good example.” + </p> + <p> + “You won’t have any trouble in doing that. You are one of the fellows that + find it easy to be good.” + </p> + <p> + “I am not sure of that, Gregory. Still, I mean to do my best.” + </p> + <p> + In the evening the two boys attended a theatrical performance. It was not + till after eleven o’clock that they emerged from the theatre, and slowly, + not by the most direct way, sauntered home. + </p> + <p> + There was no thought of danger in the mind of either, yet, as a fact, + Hector had never in his life been exposed to peril so serious as that + evening. Lurking behind in the shadow a shabby-looking man followed the + two boys, keeping his eyes steadily on Hector. At a place specially + favorable, our hero was startled by hearing a bullet whiz by his ear. He + turned instantly, and so did Gregory. They saw a man running, and they + pursued him. They might not have caught up with him, but that he stumbled + and fell. Instantly they were upon him. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he said, sullenly, “you’ve caught me after all.” + </p> + <p> + “Were you the man who fired at me?” asked Hector, “or was it my friend + here you sought to kill?” + </p> + <p> + “I was firing at you,” answered their captive, coolly. “Now, what are you + going to do with me?” + </p> + <p> + “Was this forced upon you by want? Did you wish to rob me?” + </p> + <p> + “No; I had another motive.” + </p> + <p> + “What was it?” + </p> + <p> + “If I tell you, will you let me go free?” + </p> + <p> + Hector hesitated. + </p> + <p> + The man proceeded, speaking with emphasis. + </p> + <p> + “If I tell you who put me up to this, and furnish you proofs so that you + can bring it to him, will you let me go?” + </p> + <p> + “You will not renew the attempt?” asked Hector. + </p> + <p> + “No,” answered the man; “it isn’t likely; I shall have no further motive.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I agree.” + </p> + <p> + “Read that letter, then.” + </p> + <p> + “There isn’t light enough. Will you accompany me to the hotel, where I can + read it?” + </p> + <p> + “I will.” + </p> + <p> + The three walked together to the hotel, where Hector and Gregory were + staying. There Hector read the letter. He was astonished and horrified + when he discovered that it was from his uncle to this man, with whom he + seemed to have an acquaintance, describing Hector, and promising him a + thousand dollars if he would put him out of the way. + </p> + <p> + “This is very important,” said Hector, gravely. “Are you ready to + accompany me to New York and swear to this?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, if you will pay my expenses.” + </p> + <p> + By the next steamer Hector, Gregory and the stranger, who called himself + Reuben Pearce, sailed for New York. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0038" id="link2HCH0038"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXVIII. CONCLUSION. + </h2> + <p> + Allan Roscoe sat at the breakfast table with Guy opposite him. Though Mr. + Roscoe was not altogether free from anxiety since he had learned of + Hector’s expedition to California, he had taught himself to believe that + there was little chance of the boy’s ferreting out the imposition he had + practiced upon him. He had been a poor and struggling man most of his + life, having, when quite a young man, squandered his inheritance, and his + present taste of affluence was most agreeable. He felt that he could not + part with Castle Roscoe. + </p> + <p> + “But I am safe enough,” he said to himself; “even if Hector discovered + anything, something might happen to him, so that he might be unable to + return.” + </p> + <p> + “Father,” said Guy, who had just dispatched an egg, “I want ten dollars + this morning.” + </p> + <p> + “Ten dollars!” said his father, frowning. “How is this? Did I not give you + your week’s allowance two days since?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I’ve spent it,” answered Guy, “and I need some more.” + </p> + <p> + “You must think I am made of money,” said his father, displeased. + </p> + <p> + “It’s pretty much so,” said Guy, nonchalantly. “Your income must be ten + thousand a year.” + </p> + <p> + “I have a great many expenses. How have you spent your allowance?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I can’t tell exactly. It’s gone, at any rate. You mustn’t become + mean, father.” + </p> + <p> + “Mean! Don’t I give you a handsome allowance? Look here, Guy, I can’t + allow such extravagance on your part. This once I’ll give you five + dollars, but hereafter, you must keep within your allowance.” + </p> + <p> + “Can’t you make it ten?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I can’t,” said his father, shortly. + </p> + <p> + Guy rose from the table, and left the room, whistling. + </p> + <p> + “The old man’s getting mean,” he said. “If he doesn’t allow me more, I + shall have to get in debt.” + </p> + <p> + As Guy left the room, the mail was brought in. On one of the envelopes, + Mr. Roscoe saw the name of his lawyer. He did not think much of it, + supposing it related to some minor matter of business. The letter ran + thus: + </p> + <p> + “ALLAN ROSCOE, ESQ.: + </p> + <p> + “DEAR SIR: Be kind enough to come up to the city at once. Business of + great importance demands your attention. + </p> + <p> + “Yours respectfully, TIMOTHY TAPE.” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Tape is unusually mysterious,” said Allan Roscoe to himself, + shrugging his shoulders. “I will go up to-day. I have nothing to keep me + at home.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Roscoe ordered the carriage, and drove to the depot. Guy, noticing his + departure, asked permission to accompany him. + </p> + <p> + “Not to-day, Guy,” he answered. “I am merely going up to see my lawyer.” + </p> + <p> + Two hours later Mr. Roscoe entered the office of his lawyer. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Tape, what’s up?” he asked, in an easy tone. “Your letter was + mysterious.” + </p> + <p> + “I didn’t like to write explicitly,” said Mr. Tape, gravely. + </p> + <p> + “The matter, you say, is of great importance?” + </p> + <p> + “It is, indeed! It is no less than a claim for the whole of your late + brother’s estate.” + </p> + <p> + “Who is the claimant?” asked Allan Roscoe, perturbed. + </p> + <p> + “Your nephew, Hector.” + </p> + <p> + “I have no nephew Hector. The boy called Hector Roscoe is an adopted son + of my brother.” + </p> + <p> + “I know you so stated. He says he is prepared to prove that he is the + lawful son of the late Mr. Roscoe.” + </p> + <p> + “He can’t prove it!” said Allan Roscoe, turning pale. + </p> + <p> + “He has brought positive proof from California, so he says.” + </p> + <p> + “Has he, then, returned?” asked Allan, his heart sinking. + </p> + <p> + “He is in the city, and expects us to meet him at two o’clock this + afternoon, at the office of his lawyer, Mr. Parchment.” + </p> + <p> + Now, Mr. Parchment was one of the most celebrated lawyers at the New York + bar, and the fact that Hector had secured his services showed Allan Roscoe + that the matter was indeed serious. + </p> + <p> + “How could he afford to retain so eminent a lawyer?” asked Allan Roscoe, + nervously. + </p> + <p> + “Titus Newman, the millionaire merchant, backs him.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you think there is anything in his case?” asked Allan, slowly. + </p> + <p> + “I can tell better after our interview at two o’clock.” + </p> + <p> + At five minutes to two Allan Roscoe and Mr. Tape were ushered into the + private office of Mr. Parchment. + </p> + <p> + “Glad to see you, gentlemen,” said the great lawyer, with his usual + courtesy. + </p> + <p> + Two minutes later Hector entered, accompanied by Mr. Newman. Hector nodded + coldly to his uncle. He was not of a vindictive nature, but he could not + forget that this man, his own near relative, had not only deprived him of + his property, but conspired against his life. + </p> + <p> + “Hector,” said Allan Roscoe, assuming a confidence he did not feel, “I am + amazed at your preposterous claim upon the property my brother left to me. + This is a poor return for his kindness to one who had no claim upon him.” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Parchment will speak for me,” said Hector, briefly. + </p> + <p> + “My young client,” said the great lawyer, “claims to be the son of the + deceased Mr. Roscoe, and, of course, in that capacity, succeeds to his + father’s estate.” + </p> + <p> + “It is one thing to make the claim, and another to substantiate it,” + sneered Allan Roscoe. + </p> + <p> + “Precisely so, Mr. Roscoe,” said Mr. Parchment. “We quite agree with you. + Shall I tell you and your learned counsel what we are prepared to prove?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Roscoe nodded uneasily. + </p> + <p> + “We have the affidavits of the lady with whom your brother boarded in + Sacramento, and in whose house my young client was born. We have, + furthermore, the sworn testimony of the clergyman, still living, who + baptized him, and we can show, though it is needless, in the face of such + strong proof, that he was always spoken of in his infancy by Mr. and Mrs. + Roscoe as their child.” + </p> + <p> + “And I have my brother’s letter stating that he was only adopted,” + asserted Allan Roscoe. + </p> + <p> + “Even that, admitting it to be genuine,” said Mr. Parchment, “cannot + disprove the evidence I have already alluded to. If you insist upon it, + however, we will submit the letter to an expert, and—” + </p> + <p> + “This is a conspiracy. I won’t give up the estate,” said Allan, + passionately. + </p> + <p> + “We also claim that there is a conspiracy,” said Mr. Parchment, smoothly, + “and there is one circumstance that will go far to confirm it.” + </p> + <p> + “What is that?” demanded Allan Roscoe. + </p> + <p> + “It is the attempt made upon my young client’s life in San Francisco by an + agent of yours, Mr. Roscoe.” + </p> + <p> + “It is a lie!” said Allan, hoarsely, shaking, nevertheless, with fear. + </p> + <p> + At a sign from Mr. Parchment, Hector opened the door of the office to give + admission to Reuben Pearce. + </p> + <p> + At a sight of this man Allan Roscoe utterly collapsed. He felt that all + was lost! + </p> + <p> + “Gentlemen,” he said, “I will give up the estate, but for Heaven’s sake, + don’t prosecute me for this!” + </p> + <p> + There was an informal conference, in which it was agreed that Allan Roscoe + should make no resistance to Hector’s claim, but restore the estate to + him. Hector promised, though this was against his lawyer’s advice, to give + his uncle, who would be left penniless, the sum of two thousand dollars in + cash, and an allowance of a hundred dollars per month for his life. He + appointed Mr. Newman his guardian, being a minor, and was once more a boy + of fortune. He resolved to continue his studies, and in due time go to + college, thus preparing himself for the high position he would hereafter + hold. + </p> + <p> + As for Allan Roscoe, he and his son, Guy, lost no time in leaving the + neighborhood. Guy was intensely mortified at this turn of the wheel, which + had again brought his cousin uppermost, and was quite ready to accompany + his father to Chicago, where they are living at present. But he had formed + extravagant tastes, and has been a source of trouble and solicitude to his + father, who, indeed, hardly deserves the comfort of a good son. + </p> + <p> + Hector lost no time, after being restored to his old position, in + re-engaging Larry Deane’s father, who had been discharged by his uncle. + </p> + <p> + He paid him his usual wages for all the time he had been out of place, and + considerably raised his pay for the future. + </p> + <p> + “Larry shall never want a friend as long as I live,” he assured Mr. Deane. + “He was a friend to me when I needed one, and I will take care to give him + a good start in life.” He redeemed this promise by securing Larry a place + in Mr. Newman’s employ, and voluntarily allowed him as large a weekly sum + as the merchant paid him in addition, so that Larry could live comfortably + in the city. I am glad to say that Larry has shown himself deserving of + this kindness, and has already been promoted to an important and better + paid position. + </p> + <p> + A word about Smith Institute. It never recovered from the blow that it had + received at the time when Hector found himself forced to leave it. One + after another the pupils left, and Mr. Smith felt that his race as a + schoolmaster was run. He advertised the institute for sale, and who do you + think bought it? Who but Hector Roscoe, who probably paid more for it than + anyone else would. + </p> + <p> + My readers will hardly suppose that he wanted it for himself. In a cordial + letter he presented it to Mr. Crabb, the late usher, when he had finished + his engagement with Walter Boss, and the name was changed to “Crabb + Institute.” It was not long before it regained its old patronage, for Mr. + Crabb was not only a good scholar, but was fair and just to the pupils, + ruling them rather by love than fear. He has married the daughter of a + neighboring clergyman, who is a judicious helper and contributes to the + success of the school. + </p> + <p> + As for Jim Smith, the last heard of him was to this effect: He had strayed + out to St. Louis, and, after a few months of vicissitude, had secured the + position of bartender in a low liquor saloon. He has very little chance of + rising higher. The young tyrant of Smith Institute has not done very well + for himself, but he has himself to blame for it. + </p> + <p> + To return to Hector. I think we are justified in predicting for him a + prosperous future. He behaved well in adversity. He is not likely to be + spoiled by prosperity, but promises to grow up a good and manly man, who + will seek to do good as he goes along, and so vindicate his claim to the + exceptional good fortune which he enjoys. + </p> + <p> + THE END. <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Hector’s Inheritance, by Horatio Alger + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HECTOR’S INHERITANCE *** + +***** This file should be named 5674-h.htm or 5674-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/5/6/7/5674/ + +Produced by Carrie Fellman, 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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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: Hector's Inheritance + or The Boys of Smith Institute + +Author: Horatio Alger + +Release Date: May, 2004 [EBook #5674] +Posting Date: April 2, 2009 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HECTOR'S INHERITANCE *** + + + + +Produced by Carrie Fellman + + + + + +HECTOR'S INHERITANCE + +OR + +THE BOYS OF SMITH INSTITUTE + + +By Horatio Alger, Jr. + +Author of "Eric Train Boy" "Young Acrobat," "Only an Irish Boy," "Bound +to Rise," "The Young Outlaw," "Driven from Home" etc. + +NEW YORK + + + + + +HECTOR'S INHERITANCE. + + + + +CHAPTER I. MR. ROSCOE RECEIVES TWO LETTERS. + + + +Mr. Roscoe rang the bell, and, in answer, a servant entered the library, +where he sat before a large and commodious desk. + +"Has the mail yet arrived?" he asked. + +"Yes, sir; John has just come back from the village." + +"Go at once and bring me the letters and papers, if there are any." + +John bowed and withdrew. + +Mr. Roscoe walked to the window, and looked thoughtfully out upon a +smooth, luxuriant lawn and an avenue of magnificent trees, through which +carriages were driven to what was popularly known as Castle Roscoe. +Everything, even to the luxuriously appointed room in which he sat, +indicated wealth and the ease which comes from affluence. + +Mr. Roscoe looked around him with exultation. + +"And all this may be mine," he said to himself, "if I am only bold. What +is it old Pindar says? 'Boldness is the beginning of victory.' I have +forgotten nearly all I learned in school, but I remember that. There is +some risk, perhaps, but not much, and I owe something to my son---" + +He was interrupted by the entrance of the servant with a small leather +bag, which was used to hold mail matter, going from or coming to the +house. + +The servant unlocked the bag, and emptied the contents on the desk. +There were three or four papers and two letters. It was the last which +attracted Mr. Roscoe's attention. + +We will take the liberty of looking over Mr. Roscoe's shoulder as he +reads the first. It ran as follows: + +"DEAR SIR:-I am in receipt of your favor, asking my terms for boarding +pupils. For pupils of fifteen or over, I charge five hundred dollars per +year, which is not a large sum considering the exceptional advantages +presented by Inglewood School. My pupils are from the best families, +and enjoy a liberal table. Moreover, I employ competent teachers, and +guarantee rapid progress, when the student is of good, natural capacity, +and willing to work. + +"I think you will agree with me that it is unwise to economize when the +proper training of a youth is in question, and that a cheap school is +little better than no school at all. + +"I have only to add that I shall be most happy to receive your young +nephew, if you decide to send him to me, and will take personal pains to +promote his advancement. I remain, dear sir, your obedient servant, + +"DIONYSIUS KADIX." + +Mr. Roscoe threw the letter down upon the desk with an impatient +gesture. + +"Five hundred dollars a year!" he exclaimed. "What can the man be +thinking of? Why, when I went to school, twenty-five years since, less +than half this sum was charged. The man is evidently rapacious. Let me +see what this other letter says." + +The second letter was contained in a yellow envelope, of cheap texture, +and was much more plebeian in appearance than the first. + +Again we will look over Mr. Roscoe's shoulder, and read what it +contains. It was postmarked Smithville, and the envelope was disfigured +by a blot. It commenced: + +"DEAR SIR:-It gives me pleasure to answer your inquiries respecting +my school. I have about fifty pupils, part of whom, say one-third, are +boarders. Though I say it myself, it will be hard to find any school +where more thorough instruction is given. I look upon my pupils as my +children, and treat them as such. My system of government is, therefore, +kind and parental, and my pupils are often homesick in vacation, longing +for the time to come when they can return to their studies at Smith +Institute. It is the dearest wish of Mrs. Smith and myself to make our +young charges happy, and to advance them, by pleasant roads over flowery +meads, to the inner courts of knowledge. + +"Humbug!" muttered Mr. Roscoe. "I understand what all that means." He +continued: + +"I hope you will not consider three hundred dollars per annum too +much for such parental care. Considering the present high price of +provisions, it is really as low a price as we can afford to receive. + +"I shall be glad if you consider my letter favorable and decide to place +your nephew under my charge. Yours respectfully, + +"SOCRATES SMITH, A. M." + +"That is more reasonable," said Mr. Roscoe, to himself, as he laid down +the letter. "Three hundred dollars I consider a fair price. At any rate, +I do not propose to pay any more for Hector. I suppose the table is +plain enough, but I don't believe in pampering the appetites of boys. +If he were the master of Roscoe Hall, as he thinks he is, there might be +some propriety in it; but upon that head I shall soon undeceive him. I +will let him understand that I am the proprietor of the estate, and that +he is only a dependent on my bounty. I wonder how he will take it. I +dare say he will make a fuss, but he shall soon be made to understand +that it is of no use. Now to answer these letters." + +Mr. Roscoe sat down in a luxurious armchair, and, drawing pen and paper +toward him, wrote first to Dr. Radix. I subjoin the letter, as it throws +some light upon the character of the writer: + +"ROSCOE HALL, Sept. 10th. DR. DIONYSIUS RADIX. + +"My DEAR SIR:-I am in receipt of your letter of the 8th instant, +answering my inquiries in regard to your school. Let me say at once that +I find your terms too high. Five hundred dollars a year for forty weeks' +board and schooling seems to me an exorbitant price to ask. Really, at +this rate, education will soon become a luxury open only to the wealthy. + +"You are probably under a misapprehension in reference to my young ward. +Nephew he is not, in a strict sense of the term. He was adopted--not +legally, but practically--by my brother, when he was only a year old, +and his origin has been concealed from him. My brother, being childless, +has allowed him to suppose that he was his own son. Undoubtedly he +meant to provide for him in his will, but, as often happens, put off +will-making till it was too late. The estate, therefore, goes to me, +and the boy is unprovided for. This does not so much matter, since I am +willing to educate him, and give him a fair start in life, if he acts +in a manner to suit me. I do not, however, feel called upon to pay an +exorbitant price for his tuition, and, therefore, shall be obliged to +forego placing him at Inglewood School. Yours, etc., + +"ALLAN ROSCOE." + +"When this letter is sent, I shall have taken the decisive step," +thought Mr. Roscoe. "I must then adhere to my story, at whatever cost. +Now for the other." + +His reply to the letter of Socrates Smith, A. M., was briefer, but +likely to be more satisfactory to the recipient. It ran thus; + +"SOCRATES SMITH, A. M. + +"DEAR Sir:-Your letter is at hand, and I find it, on the whole, +satisfactory. The price you charge-three hundred dollars per annum--is +about right. I hope you are a firm disciplinarian. I do not want Hector +too much indulged or pampered, though he may expect it, my poor brother +having been indulgent to excess. + +"Let me add, by the bye, that Hector is not my nephew, though I may +inadvertently have mentioned him as such, and had no real claims upon my +brother, though he has been brought up in that belief. He was adopted, +in an informal way, by my brother, when he was but, an infant. Under the +circumstances, I am willing to take care of him, and prepare him to earn +his own living when his education is completed. + +"You may expect to see me early next week. I will bring the boy with me, +and enter him at once as a pupil in your school. + +"Yours, etc., ALLAN ROSCOE." + +"There, that clinches it!" said Mr. Roscoe, in a tone of satisfaction. +"Now for an interview with the boy." + + + + +CHAPTER II. RESENTING AN INSULT. + + + +A stone's throw from the mansion was a neat and spacious carriage house. +The late master of Castle Roscoe had been fond of driving, and kept +three horses and two carriages. One of the latter was an old-fashioned +coach; while there was, besides, a light buggy, which Hector was +accustomed to consider his own. It was he, generally, who used this, +for his father preferred to take a driver, and generally took an airing, +either alone or with Hector, in the more stately carriage, drawn by two +horses. + +Hector walked across the lawn and entered the carriage house, where +Edward, the coachman, was washing the carriage. As the former is to be +our hero, we may pause to describe him. + +He was fifteen, slenderly but strongly made, with a clear skin and dark +eyes and a straightforward look. He had a winning smile, that attracted +all who saw it, but his face could assume a different expression if +need be. There were strong lines about his mouth that indicated calm +resolution and strength of purpose. He was not a boy who would permit +himself to be imposed upon, but was properly tenacious of his rights. + +As he entered the carriage house, he looked about him in some surprise. + +"Where is the buggy, Edward?" he asked. + +"Master Guy is driving out in it." + +"How is that?" said Hector. "Doesn't he know that it is mine? He might, +at least, have asked whether I intended to use it." + +"That is what I told him." + +"And what did he say?" + +"That it was just as much his as yours, and perhaps more so." + +"What could he mean?" + +"He said his father had promised to give it to him." + +"Promised to give him my buggy!" exclaimed Hector, his eyes flashing. + +"It's a shame, Master Hector, so it is," said Edward, sympathetically. +He had known Hector since he was a boy of five, and liked him far better +than Guy, who was a newcomer, and a boy disposed to domineer over those +whom he considered his inferiors. + +"I don't intend to submit to it," said Hector, trying, ineffectually, to +curb his anger. + +"I don't blame you, Master Hector, but I'm afraid you will have a hard +time. As your uncle is your guardian, of course he has power over you, +and he thinks everything of that boy of his, though, to my mind, he is +an unmannerly cub." + +"I don't know how much power he has over me, but he mustn't expect me +to play second fiddle to his son. I am willing that Guy should enjoy +as many privileges as I do, though the estate is mine; but he mustn't +interfere with my rights." + +"That's right, Master Hector. Why don't you speak to your uncle about +it? I would, if I were you." + +"So I will, if it is necessary. I will speak to Guy first, and that may +be sufficient. I don't want to enter complaint against him if I can help +it." + +"You didn't see Master Guy ride out, did you?" + +"'No; I was reading. If I had seen him, I would have stopped him." + +"I am afraid it wouldn't have done any good." + +"Do you mean that he would have taken the buggy in spite of me?" asked +Hector, indignantly. + +"I think he would have tried. To tell the truth, Master Hector, I +refused to get the buggy ready for him, till he brought out a paper from +his father commanding me to do it. Then, of course, I had no choice." + +Hector was staggered by this. + +"Have you got the paper?" he asked. + +"Yes," answered Edward, fumbling in his vest pocket. + +He drew out a small scrap of notepaper, on which was written, "My son, +Guy, has my permission to ride out in the buggy. You will obey me rather +than Hector." + +This was signed, "Allan Roscoe." + +"So it seems my uncle is the trespasser," said Hector. "It is he who +takes the responsibility. I will go and speak to him at once." + +"Wait a minute! There comes Master Guy, returning from his ride. You can +have it out with him first." + +In fact, Hector had only to look down the avenue to see the rapid +approach of the buggy. Guy held the reins, and was seated in the +driver's seat with all the air of a master. The sight aggravated Hector, +and not without reason. He waited until Guy, flinging the reins to +Edward, leaped from the buggy, then he thought it time to speak. + +"Guy," he said, calmly, "it seems to me that you owe me an apology." + +"Oh, I do, do I?" sneered Guy. "What for, let me ask?" + +"You have driven out in my buggy, without asking my permission." + +"Oh, it's your buggy, is it?" said Guy, with another sneer. + +"Of course it is. You know that as well as I do." + +"I don't know it at all." + +"Then I inform you of it. I don't want to be selfish; I am willing that +you should ride out in it occasionally; but I insist upon your asking my +permission." + +Guy listened to these words with a sneer upon his face. He was about +the same age and size as Hector, but his features were mean and +insignificant, and there was a shifty look in his eye that stamped him +as unreliable. He did not look like the Roscoes, though in many respects +he was in disposition and character similar to his father. + +"It strikes me," he said, with an unpleasant smile, "that you're taking +a little too much upon yourself, Hector Roscoe. The buggy is no more +yours than mine." + +"What do you say, Edward?" said Hector, appealing to the coachman. + +"I say that the buggy is yours, and the horse is yours, and so I told +Master Guy, but he wouldn't take no notice of it." + +"Do you hear that, Guy?" + +"Yes, I do; and that's what I think of it," answered Guy, snapping his +fingers. "My father gave me permission to ride out in it, and I've got +just as much right to it as you, and perhaps more." + +"You know better, Guy," said Hector, indignantly; "and I warn you not to +interfere with my rights hereafter." + +"Suppose I do?" sneered Guy. + +"Then I shall be under the necessity of giving you a lesson," said +Hector, calmly. + +"You will, will you? You'll give me a lesson?" repeated Guy, nodding +vigorously. "Who are you, I'd like to know?" + +"If you don't know, I can tell you." + +"Tell me, then." + +"I am Hector Roscoe, the owner of Roscoe Hall. Whether your father is to +be my guardian or not, I don't know; but there are limits to the power +of a guardian, and I hope he won't go too far." + +"Hear the boy talk!" said Guy, contemptuously. + +"I wish to treat my uncle with becoming respect; but he is a newcomer +here--I never saw him till three months since--and he has no right to +come here, and take from me all my privileges. We can all live at peace +together, and I hope we shall; but he must treat me well." + +"You are quite sure Roscoe Castle belongs to you, are you, Hector?" + +"That's the law. Father left no will, and so the estate comes to me." + +"Ho! ho!" laughed Guy, with malicious glee. + +"If you only knew what I know, you wouldn't crow quite so loud. It's a +splendid joke." + +There was something in this that attracted Hector's attention, though he +was not disposed to attach much importance to what Guy said. + +"If I only knew what you know!" he repeated. + +"Yes; that's what I said." + +"What is it?" + +"You'll know it soon enough, and I can tell you one thing, it'll +surprise you. It'll take down your pride a peg or two." + +Hector stared at his cousin in unaffected surprise. What could Guy +possibly mean? Had his father perhaps made a will, and left the estate +to some one else--his uncle, for example? Was this the meaning of Guy's +malicious mirth? + +"I don't know to what you refer," he said; "but if it's anything that is +of importance to me, I ought to know it. What is it?" + +"Go and ask father," said Guy, with a tantalizing grin. + +"I will," answered Hector, "and without delay." + +He turned to enter the house, but Guy had not exhausted his malice. He +was in a hurry to triumph over Hector, whom he disliked heartily. + +"I don't mind telling you myself," he said. + +"You are not what you suppose. You're a lowborn beggar!" + +He had no sooner uttered these words, than Hector resented the insult. +Seizing the whip from Guy, he grasped him by the collar, flung him to +the ground and lashed him with it. + +"There," said he, with eyes aflame, "take that, Guy Roscoe, and look out +how you insult me in future!" + +Guy rose slowly from the ground, pale with fury, and, as he brushed the +dust from his clothes, ejaculated: + +"You'll pay dearly for this, Hector!" + +"I'll take the consequences," said Hector, as coldly as his anger would +allow. "Now, I shall go to your father and ask the meaning of this." + + + + +CHAPTER III. HECTOR LEARNS A SECRET. + + + +Hector entered the library with some impetuosity. Usually he was quiet +and orderly, but he had been excited by the insinuations of Guy, and he +was impatient to know what he meant--if he meant anything. + +Allan Roscoe looked up, and remarked, with slight sarcasm: + +"This is not a bear garden, Hector. You appear to think you are on the +playground, judging by your hasty motions." + +"I beg your pardon, uncle," said Hector, who never took amiss a rebuke +which he thought deserved. "I suppose I forgot myself, being excited. I +beg your pardon." + +"What is the cause of your excitement?" asked Mr. Roscoe, surveying the +boy keenly. + +"Guy has said something that I don't understand." + +"He must have said something very profound, then," returned Allan +Roscoe, with light raillery. + +"Indeed, Uncle Allan, it is no laughing matter," said Hector, earnestly. + +"Then let me hear what it is." + +"He intimates that he knows something that would let down my pride a peg +or two. He hints that I am not the heir of Castle Roscoe." + +The boy used the term by which the house was usually known. + +Allan Roscoe knit his brow in pretended vexation. + +"Inconsiderate boy!" he murmured. "Why need he say this?" + +"But," said Hector, startled, "is it true?" + +"My boy," said his uncle, with simulated feeling, "my son has spoken to +you of a secret which I would willingly keep from you if I could. Yet, +perhaps, it is as well that you should be told now." + +"Told what?" exclaimed Hector, quite at sea. + +"Can you bear to hear, Hector, that it is indeed true? You are not the +owner of this estate." + +"Who is then?" ejaculated the astonished boy. + +"I am; and Guy after me." + +"What! Did my father leave the estate away from me? I thought he did not +leave a will?" + +"Nor did he." + +"Then how can anyone else except his son inherit?" + +"Your question is a natural one. If you were his son you would inherit +under the law." + +"If I were his son!" repeated Hector, slowly, his head swimming. "What +do you mean by that? Of course I am your brother's son." + +"It is very painful for me to tell, Hector. It will be distressing for +you to hear. No tie of blood connects you with the late owner of Castle +Roscoe." + +"I don't believe you, Uncle Allan," said Hector, bluntly. + +"Of course, therefore, I am not your uncle," added Allan Roscoe, dryly. + +"I beg your pardon; I should have said Mr. Allan Roscoe," said Hector, +bowing proudly, for his heart was sore, and he was deeply indignant with +the man who sat, smooth and sleek, in his father's chair, harrowing up +his feelings without himself being ruffled. + +"That is immaterial. Call me uncle, if you like, since the truth is +understood. But I must explain." + +"I would like to know what is your authority for so surprising a +statement, Mr. Roscoe. You cannot expect me to believe that I have been +deceived all my life." + +"I make the statement on your father's authority--I should say, on my +brother's authority." + +"Can you prove it, Mr. Roscoe?" + +"I can. I will presently put into your hands a letter, written me by my +brother some months since, which explains the whole matter. To save you +suspense, however, I will recapitulate. Where were you born?" + +"In California." + +"That is probably true. It was there that my brother found you." + +"Found me?" + +"Perhaps that is not the word. My brother and his wife were boarding +in Sacramento in the winter of 1859. In the same boarding house was a +widow, with a child of some months old. You were that child. Your mother +died suddenly, and it was ascertained that she left nothing. Her child +was, therefore, left destitute. It was a fine, promising boy--give me +credit for the compliment--and my brother, having no children of his +own, proposed to his wife to adopt it. She was fond of children, and +readily consented. No formalities were necessary, for there was no one +to claim you. You were at once taken in charge by my brother and his +wife, therefore, and very soon they came to look upon you with as much +affection as if you were their own child. They wished you to consider +them your real parents, and to you the secret was never made known, nor +was it known to the world. When my brother returned to this State, three +years after, not one of his friends doubted that the little Hector was +his own boy. + +"When you were six years old your mother died--that is, my brother's +wife. All the more, perhaps, because he was left alone, my brother +became attached to you, and, I think, he came to love you as much as if +you were his own son." + +"I think he did," said Hector, with emotion. "Never was there a kinder, +more indulgent father." + +"Yet he was not your father," said Allan Roscoe, with sharp emphasis. + +"So you say, Mr. Roscoe." + +"So my brother says in his letter to me." + +"Do you think it probable that, with all this affection for me, he would +have left me penniless?" asked the boy. + +"No; it was his intention to make a will. By that will he would no doubt +have provided for you in a satisfactory manner. But I think my poor +brother had a superstitious fear of will making, lest it might hasten +death. At any rate, he omitted it till it was too late." + +"It was a cruel omission, if your story is a true one." + +"Your--my brother, did what he could to remedy matters. In his last +sickness, when too weak to sign his name, he asked me, as the legal heir +of his estate, to see that you were well provided for. He wished me to +see your education finished, and I promised to do so. I could see that +this promise relieved his mind. Of one thing you may be assured, Hector, +he never lost his affection for you." + +"Thank Heaven for that!" murmured the boy, who had been deeply and +devotedly attached to the man whom, all his life long, he had looked +upon as his father. + +"I can only add, Hector," said Mr. Roscoe, "that I feel for your natural +disappointment. It is, indeed, hard to be brought up to regard yourself +as the heir of a great estate, and to make the discovery that you have +been mistaken." + +"I don't mind that so much, Mr. Roscoe," said Hector, slowly. "It is the +hardest thing to think of myself as having no claim upon one whom I have +loved as a father--to think myself as a boy of unknown parentage. But," +he added, suddenly, "I have it only on your word. Why should I believe +it?" + +"I will give you conclusive proof, Hector. Read this." + +Allan Roscoe took from his pocket a letter, without an envelope. One +glance served to show Hector that it was in the handwriting of his late +father, or, at any rate, in a handwriting surprisingly like it. + +He began to read it with feverish haste. + +The letter need not find a place here. The substance of it had been +accurately given by Mr. Allan Roscoe. Apparently, it corroborated his +every statement. + +The boy looked up from its perusal, his face pale and stricken. + +"You see that I have good authority for my statement," said Mr. Roscoe. + +"I can't understand it," said Hector, slowly. + +"I need only add," said Mr. Roscoe, apparently relieved by the +revelation, "that my brother did not repose confidence in me in vain. I +accept, as a sacred charge, the duty he imposed upon me. I shall provide +for you and look after your education. I wish to put you in a way to +prepare yourself for a useful and honorable career. As a first step, I +intend, on Monday next, to place you in an excellent boarding school, +where you will have exceptional privileges." + +Hector listened, but his mind was occupied by sad thoughts, and he made +no comment. + +"I have even selected the school with great care," said Mr. Roscoe. "It +is situated at Smithville, and is under the charge of Socrates Smith, A. +M., a learned and distinguished educator. You may go now. I will speak +with you on this subject later." + +Hector bowed. After what he had heard, his interest in other matters was +but faint. + +"I shall be glad to get him out of the house," thought Allan Roscoe. "I +never liked him." + + + + +CHAPTER IV. A SKIRMISH. + + + +Hector walked out of the house in a state of mental bewilderment not +easily described. Was he not Hector Roscoe, after all? Had he been all +his life under a mistake? If this story were true, who was he, who were +his parents, what was his name? Why had the man whom he had supposed to +be his father not imparted to him this secret? He had always been kind +and indulgent; he had never appeared to regard the boy as an alien in +blood, but as a dearly loved son. Yet, if he had, after all, left him +unprovided for, he had certainly treated Hector with great cruelty. + +"I won't believe it," said Hector, to himself. + +"I won't so wrong my dear father's memory at the bidding of this man, +whose interest it is to trump up this story, since he and his son become +the owners of a great estate in my place." + +Just then Guy advanced toward Hector with a malicious smile upon his +face. He knew very well what a blow poor Hector had received, for he +was in his father's confidence, and he was mean enough, and malicious +enough, to rejoice at it. + +"What's the matter with you, Hector?" he asked, with a grin. "You look +as if you had lost your last friend." + +Hector stopped short and regarded Guy fixedly. + +"Do you know what your father has been saying to me?" he asked. + +"Well, I can guess," answered Guy. "Ho! ho! It's a great joke that you +have all the time fancied yourself the heir of Castle Roscoe, when you +have no claim to it at all. I am the heir!" he added, drawing himself up +proudly; "and you are a poor dependent, and a nobody. It's funny!" + +"Perhaps you won't think it so funny after this!" said Hector, coolly, +exasperated beyond endurance. As he spoke he drew off, and in an instant +Guy measured his length upon the greensward. + +Guy rose, his face livid with passion, in a frame of mind far from +funny. He clinched his fists and looked at Hector as if he wished to +annihilate him. "You'll pay for this," he screamed. "You'll repent it, +bitterly, you poor, nameless dependent, low-born, very likely--" + +"Hold, there!" said Hector, advancing resolutely, and sternly facing the +angry boy. "Be careful what you say. If this story of your father's is +true, which I don't believe, you might have the decency to let me +alone, even if you don't sympathize with me. If you dare to say or hint +anything against my birth, I'll treat you worse than I have yet." + +"You'll suffer for this!" almost shrieked Guy. + +"I am ready to suffer now, if you are able to make me," said Hector. +"Come on, and we'll settle it now." + +But Guy had no desire for the contest to which he was invited. He had a +wholesome fear of Hector's strong, muscular arms, aided, as they were, +by some knowledge of boxing. Hector had never taken regular lessons, but +a private tutor, whom his father had employed, a graduate of Yale, had +instructed him in the rudiments of the "manly art of self-defense," and +Hector was very well able to take care of himself against any boy of his +own size and strength. In size, Guy was his equal, but in strength he +was quite inferior. This Guy knew full well, and, angry as he was, he by +no means lost sight of prudence. + +"I don't choose to dirty my hands with you," he said. "I shall tell my +father, and it would serve you right if he sent you adrift." + +In Hector's present mood, he would not, perhaps, have cared much if +this threat had been carried into execution, but he was not altogether +reckless, and he felt that it was best to remain under Mr. Roscoe's +protection until he had had time to investigate the remarkable story +which he suspected his reputed uncle had trumped up to serve his own +interests. + +"Tell your father, if you like," said Hector, quietly. "I don't know +whether he will sustain you or not in your insults, but if he does, then +I shall have two opponents instead of one." + +"Does that mean that you will attack my father?" demanded Guy, hoping +for an affirmative answer, as it would help him to prejudice his father +against our hero. + +"No," answered Hector, smiling, "I don't apprehend there will be any +necessity, for he won't insult me as you have done." + +Guy lost no time in seeking his father, and laying the matter before him, +inveighing against Hector with great bitterness. + +"So he knocked you down, did he, Guy?" asked Allan Roscoe, thoughtfully. + +"Yes; he took me unawares, or he couldn't have done it," answered Guy, a +little ashamed at the avowal. + +"What did you do?" + +"I--I told him he should suffer for it." + +"Why did he attack you?" + +"It was on account of something I said." + +"What was it?" + +Guy reluctantly answered this question, and with correctness. + +"It was your fault for speaking to him when he was feeling sore at +making a painful discovery." + +"Do you justify him in pitching into me like a big brute?" asked Guy, +hastily. + +"No; but still, I think it, was natural, under the circumstances. You +should have kept out of his way, and let him alone." + +"Won't you punish him for attacking me?" demanded Guy, indignantly. + +"I will speak to him on the subject," said Allan Roscoe; "and will tell +him my opinion of his act." + +"Then shan't I be revenged upon him?" asked Guy, disappointed. + +"Listen, Guy," said his father. "Is it no punishment that the boy +is stripped of all his possessions, while you step into his place? +Henceforth he will be dependent upon me, and later, upon you. He has +been hurled down from his proud place as owner of Castle Roscoe, and I +have taken his place, as you will hereafter do." + +"Yes," said Guy, gleefully; "it will be a proud day when I become master +of the estate." + +Allan Roscoe was not a specially sensitive man, but this remark of his +son jarred upon him. + +"You seem to forget, Guy, that you do not succeed till I am dead!" + +"Yes, I suppose so," answered Guy, slowly. + +"It almost seems as if you were in a hurry for me to die." + +"I didn't mean that, but it's natural to suppose that I shall live +longer than you do, isn't it?" + +"I suppose so," returned Allan Roscoe, shortly. + +"Of course that's what I mean." + +"Then, since you are so much better off than Hector, you had better be +more considerate, and leave him to get over his disappointment as well +as he can." + +"Shall I send in Hector to see you?" asked Guy, as he at length turned +to leave the room. + +"Yes." + +"You're to go in to my father," said Guy, reappearing on the lawn; "he's +going to give it to you." + +Hector anticipated some such summons, and he had remained in the same +spot, too proud to have it supposed that he shrank from the interview. + +With a firm, resolute step, he entered the presence of Allan Roscoe. + +"I hear you wish to see me, Mr. Roscoe," he said, manfully. + +"Yes, Hector; Guy has come to me with complaints of you." + +"If he says I knocked him down for insulting me, he has told you the +truth," said Hector, sturdily. + +"That was the substance of what he said, though he did not admit the +insult." + +"But for that I should not have attacked him." + +"I do not care to interfere in boys' quarrels, except in extreme +cases," said Mr. Roscoe. "I am afraid Guy was aggravating, and you were +unnecessarily violent." + +"It doesn't seem to me so," said Hector. + +"So I regard it. I have warned him not to add by taunts to the poignancy +of your disappointment. I request you to remember that Guy is my son, +and that I am disposed to follow my brother's directions, and provide +for and educate you." + +Hector bowed and retired. He went out with a more favorable opinion of +Allan Roscoe, who had treated the difficulty in a reasonable manner. + +Allan Roscoe looked after him as he went out. + +"I hate that boy," he said, to himself; "I temporize from motives of +policy, but I mean to tame his haughty spirit yet." + + + + +CHAPTER V. PREPARING TO LEAVE HOME. + + + +Allan Roscoe's remonstrance with the two boys had the effect of keeping +the peace between them for the remainder of the week. Guy did not think +it prudent to taunt Hector, unless backed up by his father, and he felt +that the change in their relative positions was satisfaction enough at +present. Besides, his father, in a subsequent conversation, had told Guy +that it was his purpose to place Hector in a boarding school, where the +discipline would be strict, and where he would be thrashed if he proved +rebellious. + +"I shall tell Mr. Smith," he added, "that the boy needs a strong hand, +and that I am not only perfectly willing that he should be punished +whenever occasion may call for it, but really desire it." + +"Good, good!" commended Guy, gleefully. "I hope old Smith'll lay it on +good." + +"I presume he will," said Allan Roscoe, smiling in sympathy with his +son's exuberance. "I am told by a man who knows him that he is a tall +man, strong enough to keep order, and determined to do it." + +"I should like to be there to see Hector's first flogging," remarked the +amiable Guy. "I'd rather see it than go to the theater any time." + +"I don't see how you can, unless you also enter the school." + +"No, thank you," answered Guy. "No boarding school for me. That isn't +my idea of enjoyment. I'd rather stay at home with you. Hector won't be +here to interfere with my using his horse and buggy." + +"They are his no longer. I give them to you." + +"Thank you, father," said Guy, very much gratified. + +"But I would rather you would not use them till after Hector is gone. It +might disturb him." + +"That's just why I want to do it." + +"But it might make trouble. He might refuse to go to school." + +"You'd make him go, wouldn't you, father?" + +"Yes; but I wish to avoid forcible measures, if possible. Come, Guy, +it's only till Monday; then Hector will be out of the way, and you can +do as you please without fear of interference." + +"All right, father. I'll postpone my fun till he is out of the way. +You'll go with him, won't you?" + +"Yes, Guy." + +"Just tell old Smith how to treat him. Tell him to show him no mercy, if +he doesn't behave himself." + +"You seem to dislike Hector very much. You shouldn't feel so. It isn't +Christian." + +Guy looked at his father queerly out of the corner of his eye. He +understood him better than Allan Roscoe supposed. + +"I hope you won't insist on my loving him, father," he said. "I leave +that to you." + +"I only wish you to avoid coming into collision with him. As for love, +that is something not within our power." + +"Will you be ready to go with me to boarding school on Monday morning, +Hector?" asked Allan Roscoe, on Saturday afternoon. + +"Yes, sir." + +Indeed, Hector felt that it would be a relief to get away from the +house which he had been taught to look upon as his--first by right of +inheritance, and later as actual owner. As long as he remained he was +unpleasantly reminded of the great loss he had experienced. Again, +his relations with Guy were unfriendly, and he knew that if they were +permanently together it wouldn't be long before there would be another +collision. Though in such a case he was sure to come off victorious, he +did not care to contend, especially as no advantage could come of it in +the end. + +Of the boarding school kept by Mr. Socrates Smith he had never heard, +but felt that he would, at any rate, prefer to find himself amid new +scenes. If the school were a good one, he meant to derive benefit from +it, for he was fond of books and study, and thought school duties no +task. + +"I have carefully selected a school for you," continued Allan Roscoe, +"because I wish to follow out my poor brother's wishes to the letter. +A good education will fit you to maintain yourself, and attain a +creditable station in life, which is very important, since you will have +to carve your own future." + +There was no objection to make to all this. Still, it did grate upon +Hector's feelings, to be so often reminded of his penniless position, +when till recently he had regarded himself, and had been regarded by +others, as a boy of large property. + +Smithville was accessible by railroad, being on the same line as the +town of Plympton in which Roscoe Castle was situated. There was a train +starting at seven o'clock, which reached Smithville at half-past, eight. +This was felt to be the proper train to take, as it would enable Hector +to reach school before the morning session began. Allan Roscoe, who was +not an early riser, made an effort to rise in time, and succeeded. In +truth, he was anxious to get Hector out of the house. It might be +that the boy's presence was a tacit reproach, it might be that he had +contracted a dislike for him. At any rate, when Hector descended to the +breakfast room, he found Mr. Roscoe already there. + +"You are in time, Hector," said Mr. Roscoe. "I don't know how early they +will get up at school, but I hope it won't be earlier than this." + +"I have no objection to early rising," said Hector. + +"I have," said Allan Roscoe, gaping. + +"I am sorry to have inconvenienced you," said Hector, politely. "I could +have gone to school alone." + +"No doubt; but I wished an interview with Mr. Socrates Smith myself. I +look upon myself in the light of your guardian, though you are not my +nephew, as was originally supposed." + +"I'd give a good deal to know whether this is true," thought Hector, +fixing his eyes attentively upon his uncle's face. + +I have written "uncle" inadvertently, that being the character in which +Mr. Roscoe appeared to the world. + +"By the way, Hector," said Allan Roscoe, "there is one matter which we +have not yet settled." + +"What is that, sir?" + +"About your name." + +"My name is Hector Roscoe." + +"I beg your pardon. Assuming by brother's communication to be true, and +I think you will not question his word, you have no claim to the name." + +"To what name have I a claim, then?" asked Hector, pointedly. + +"To the name of your father--the last name, I mean. I have no objection +to your retaining the name of Hector." + +"What was the name of my father?" asked the boy. + +"Ahem! My brother did not mention that in his letter. Quite an omission, +I must observe." + +"Then it is clear that he meant to have me retain his own name," said +Hector, decisively. + +"That does not follow." + +"As I know no other name to which I have a claim, I shall certainly keep +the name of the kindest friend I ever had, whether he was my father or +not," said Hector, firmly. + +Allan Roscoe looked annoyed. + +"Really," he said, "I think this ill-judged, very ill-judged. It will +lead to misapprehension. It will deceive people into the belief that you +are a real Roscoe." + +"I don't know but I am," answered Hector, with a calm look of defiance, +which aggravated Allan Roscoe. + +"Have I not told you you are not?" he said, frowning. + +"You have; but you have not proved it," said Hector. + +"I am surprised that you should cling to a foolish delusion. You are +only preparing trouble for yourself. If my word is not sufficient--" + +"You are an interested party. This story, if true, gives you my +property." + +"At any rate, you may take your father's--I mean my brother's--word for +it." + +"If he had told me so, I would believe it," said Hector. + +"You have it in black and white, in the paper I showed you. What more do +you want?" + +"I want to be sure that that document is genuine. However, I won't argue +the question now. I have only been giving you my reasons for keeping the +name I have always regarded as mine." + +Allan Roscoe thought it best to drop the subject; but the boy's +persistency disturbed him. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. SMITH INSTITUTE. + + + +Socrates Smith, A. M., was not always known by the philosophic name +by which he challenged the world's respect as a man of learning and +distinguished attainments. When a boy in his teens, and an academy +student, he was known simply as Shadrach Smith. His boy companions used +to address him familiarly as Shad. It was clear that no pedagogue could +retain the respect of his pupils who might readily be metamorphosed into +Old Shad. By the advice of a brother preacher, he dropped the plebeian +name, and bloomed forth as Socrates Smith, A. M. + +I may say, in confidence, that no one knew from what college Mr. Smith +obtained the degree of Master of Arts. He always evaded the question +himself, saying that it was given him by a Western university causa +honoris. + +It might be, or it might not. At any rate, he was allowed to wear +the title, since no one thought it worth while to make the necessary +examination into its genuineness. Nor, again, had anyone been able to +discover at what college the distinguished Socrates had studied. In +truth, he had never even entered college, but he had offered himself as +a candidate for admission to a college in Ohio, and been rejected. This +did not, however, prevent his getting up a school, and advertising to +instruct others in the branches of learning of which his own knowledge +was so incomplete. + +He was able to hide his own deficiencies, having generally in his employ +some college graduate, whose poverty compelled him to accept the scanty +wages which Socrates doled out to him. These young men were generally +poor scholars in more than one sense of the word, as Mr. Smith did not +care to pay the high salary demanded by a first-class scholar. Mr. Smith +was shrewd enough not to attempt to instruct the classes in advanced +classics or mathematics, as he did not care to have his deficiencies +understood by his pupils. + +It pleased him best to sit in state and rule the school, administering +reproofs and castigations where he thought fit, and, best of all, to +manage the finances. Though his price was less than that of many other +schools, his profits were liberal, as he kept down expenses. His table +was exceedingly frugal, as his boarding pupils could have testified, and +the salaries he paid to under teachers were pitifully small. + +So it was that, year by year, Socrates Smith, A. M., found himself +growing richer, while his teachers grew more shabby, and his pupils +rarely became fat. + +Allan Roscoe took a carriage from the depot to the school. + +Arrived at the gate, he descended, and Hector followed him. + +The school building was a long, rambling, irregular structure, of no +known order of architecture, bearing some resemblance to a factory. The +ornament of architecture Mr. Smith did not regard. He was strictly of a +utilitarian cast of mind. So long as the institute, as he often called +it, afforded room for the school and scholars he did not understand what +more was wanted. + +"Is Mr. Smith at leisure?" Mr. Roscoe asked of a bare-arm servant girl +who answered the bell. + +"I guess he's in his office," was the reply. + +"Take him this card," said Mr. Roscoe. The girl inspected the card with +some curiosity, and carried it to the eminent principal. When Socrates +Smith read upon the card the name + +ALLAN ROSCOE, + +and, penciled in the corner, "with a pupil," he said, briskly: + +"Bring the gentleman in at once, Bridget." + +As Mr. Roscoe entered, Mr. Smith beamed upon him genially. It was thus +he always received those who brought to him new scholars. As he always +asked half a term's tuition and board in advance, every such visitor +represented to him so much ready cash, and for ready cash Socrates had a +weakness. + +"I am glad to see you, Mr. Roscoe," said the learned principal, +advancing to meet his visitor. "And this is the young lad. Dear me! he +is very well grown, and looks like he was fond of his books." + +This was not exactly the way in which a learned scholar might be +expected to talk; but Mr. Smith's speech was not always elegant, or even +grammatically correct. + +"I believe he is reasonably fond of study," said Mr. Roscoe. "Hector, +this is your future instructor, Prof. Socrates Smith." + +At the name of professor, which he much affected, Socrates Smith looked +positively benignant. + +"My young friend," he said, "we will try to make you happy. Smith +Institute is a regular beehive, full of busy workers, who are preparing +themselves for the duties and responsibilities of life. I aim to be a +father to my pupils, and Mrs. Smith is a mother to them. I am truly glad +to receive you into my happy family." + +Hector scanned attentively the face of his new teacher. He was not +altogether prepossessed in his favor. That the reader may judge whether +he had reason to be, let me describe Mr. Smith. + +He was a trifle over six feet in height, with yellowish, sandy hair, +high cheek bones, a rough and mottled skin, a high but narrow forehead, +a pair of eyes somewhat like those of a ferret, long, ungainly limbs, +and a shambling walk. A coat of rusty black, with very long tails, +magnified his apparent height, and nothing that he wore seemed made for +him. + +Perhaps, as the first Socrates was said to have been the homeliest of +all the Athenians, it was fitting that the man who assumed his name +should also have the slightest possible claim to beauty. + +"He may be a learned man," thought Hector, "but he is certainly plain +enough. It is well that he has something to compensate for his looks." + +"I hope you are glad to come here, my boy," said Socrates, affably. "I +sincerely trust that you will be contented at the institute." + +"I hope so, too," said Hector, but he evidently spoke doubtfully. + +"I should like a little conversation with you, Professor Smith," said +Allan Roscoe. "I don't know that it is necessary to keep Hector here +during our interview." + +Socrates took the hint. + +He rang a hand bell, and a lank boy, of fifteen, appeared. + +"Wilkius," said Mr. Smith, "this is a new scholar, Hector Roscoe. Take +him to the playground, and introduce him to Mr. Crabb." + +"All right, sir. Come along." + +This last was addressed to Hector, who went out with the new boy. + +"I thought it best to speak with you briefly about Hector, Professor +Smith," commenced Allan Roscoe. + +"Very appropriate and gratifying, Mr. Roscoe. I can assure you he will +be happy here." + +"I dare say," returned Mr. Roscoe, carelessly. "I wish to guard you +against misinterpreting my wishes. I don't want the boy pampered, or too +much indulged." + +"We never pamper our boarding pupils," said Socrates, and it is quite +certain that he spoke the truth. + +"It spoils boys to be too well treated." + +"So it does," said Socrates, eagerly. "Plain, wholesome diet, without +luxury, and a kind, but strict discipline--such are the features of +Smith Institute." + +"Quite right and judicious, professor. I may remark that the boy, though +reared in luxury by my brother, is really penniless." + +"You don't say so?" + +"Yes, he is solely dependent upon my generosity. I propose, however, to +give him a good education at my own expense, and prepare him to earn his +living in some useful way." + +"Kind philanthropist!" exclaimed Socrates. "He ought, indeed, to be +grateful." + +"I doubt if he will," said Mr. Roscoe, shrugging his shoulders. "He has +a proud spirit, and a high idea of his own position, though he is of +unknown parentage, and has nothing of his own." + +"Indeed!" + +"I merely wish to say that you do not need to treat him as if he were +my nephew. It is best to be strict with him, and make him conform to the +rules." + +"I will, indeed, Mr. Roscoe. Would that all guardians of youth were as +judicious! Your wishes shall be regarded." + +After a little more conversation, Allan Roscoe took his leave. + +So, under auspices not the most pleasant, Hector's school life began. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. THE TYRANT OF THE PLAYGROUND. + + + +Under the guidance of the lank boy, named Wilkins, Hector left Mr. +Smith's office, and walked to a barren-looking plot of ground behind the +house, which served as a playground for the pupils of Smith Institute. + +Wilkins scanned the new arrival closely. + +"I say, Roscoe," he commenced, "what made you come here?" + +"Why do boys generally come to school?" returned Hector. + +"Because they have to, I suppose," answered Wilkins. + +"I thought they came to study." + +"Oh, you're one of that sort, are you?" asked Wilkins, curiously. + +"I hope to learn something here." + +"You'll get over that soon," answered Wilkins, in the tone of one who +could boast of a large experience. + +"I hope not. I shall want to leave school if I find I can't learn here." + +"Who is it that brought you here--your father?" + +"No, indeed!" answered Hector, quickly, for he had no desire to be +considered the son of Allan Roscoe. + +"Uncle, then?" + +"He is my guardian," answered Hector, briefly. + +They were by this time in the playground. Some dozen boys were playing +baseball. They were of different ages and sizes, ranging from ten to +nineteen. The oldest and largest bore such a strong personal resemblance +to Socrates Smith, that Hector asked if he were his son. + +"No," answered Wilkins; "he is old Sock's nephew." + +"Who is old Sock?" + +"Smith, of course. His name is Socrates, you know. Don't let him catch +you calling him that, though." + +"What sort of a fellow is this nephew?" asked Hector. + +"He's a bully. He bosses the boys. It's best to keep on the right side +of Jim." + +"Oh, is it?" inquired Hector, smiling slightly. + +"Well, I should say so." + +"Suppose you don't?" + +"He'll give you a thrashing." + +"Does his uncle allow that?" + +"Yes; I think he rather likes it." + +"Don't the boys resist?" + +"It won't do any good. You see, Jim's bigger than any of us." + +Hector took a good look at this redoubtable Jim Smith. + +He was rather loosely made, painfully homely, and about five feet nine +inches in height. Nothing more need be said, as, in appearance, he +closely resembled his uncle. + +Jim Smith soon gave Hector an opportunity of verifying the description +given of him by Wilkins. + +The boy at the bat had struck a ball to the extreme boundary of the +field. The fielder at that point didn't go so fast as Jim, who was +pitcher, thought satisfactory, and he called out in a rough, brutal +tone: + +"If you don't go quicker, Archer, I'll kick you all round the field." + +Hector looked at Wilkins inquiringly. + +"Does he mean that?" he asked. + +"Yes, he does." + +"Does he ever make such a brute of himself?" + +"Often." + +"And the boys allow it?" + +"They can't help it." + +"So, it seems, you have a tyrant of the school?" + +"That's just it." + +"Isn't there any boy among you to teach the fellow better manners? You +must be cowards to submit." + +"Oh, you'll find out soon that you must submit, too," said Wilkins. + +Hector smiled. + +"You don't know me yet," he said. + +"What could you do against Jim? He's three or four inches taller than +you. How old are you?" + +"I shall be sixteen next month." + +"And he is nineteen." + +"That may be; but he'd better not try to order me round." + +"You'll sing a different tune in a day or two," said Wilkins. + +By this time Jim Smith had observed the new arrival. + +"What's that you've got with you, Wilkins?" he demanded, pausing in his +play. + +"The new boy." + +"Who's he?" + +"His name is Roscoe." + +"Ho! Hasn't he got any other name?" asked Jim, meaningly. + +Wilkins had forgotten the new arrival's first name, and said so. + +"What's your name, Roscoe?" asked Jim, in the tone of a superior. + +Hector resented this tone, and, though he had no objection, under +ordinary circumstances, to answering the question, he did not choose to +gratify his present questioner. + +"I don't happen to have a card with me," he answered, coldly. + +"Oh, that's your answer, is it?" retorted Jim, scenting insubordination +with undisguised pleasure, for he always liked the task of subduing a +new boy. + +"Yes." + +"I guess you don't know who I am," said Jim, blustering. + +"Oh, yes, I do." + +"Well, who am I, then?" + +"The bully of the school, I should suppose, from your style of +behavior." + +"Do you hear that, boys?" demanded Jim, in a theatrical tone, turning to +the other boys. + +There was a little murmur in response, but whether of approval or +reprobation, it was not easy to judge. + +"That boy calls me a bully! He actually has the audacity to insult me! +What do you say to that?" + +The boys looked uneasy. Possibly, in their secret hearts, they admired +the audacity that Jim complained of; but, seeing the difference between +the two boys in size and apparent strength, it did not seem to them +prudent to espouse the side of Hector. + +"Don't you think I ought to teach him a lesson?" + +"Yes!" cried several of the smaller boys, who stood in awe of the bully. + +Hector smiled slightly, but did not seem in the least intimidated. + +"Jim," said Wilkins, "the boy's guardian is inside with your uncle." + +This was meant as a warning, and received as such. A boy's guardian is +presumed to be his friend, and it would not be exactly prudent, while +the guardian was closeted with the principal, to make an assault upon +the pupil. + +"Very well," said Jim; "we'll postpone Roscoe's case. This afternoon +will do as well. Come, boys, let us go on with the game." + +"What made you speak to Jim in that way?" expostulated Wilkins. "I'm +afraid you've got into hot water." + +"Didn't I tell the truth about him?" + +"Yes," answered Wilkins, cautiously; "but you've made an enemy of him." + +"I was sure to do that, sooner or later," said Hector, unconcernedly. +"It might as well be now as any time." + +"Do you know what he'll do this afternoon?" + +"What will he do?" + +"He'll give you a thrashing." + +"Without asking my permission?" asked Hector, smiling. + +"You're a queer boy! Of course, he won't trouble himself about that. You +don't seem to mind it," he continued, eying Hector curiously. + +"Oh, no." + +"Perhaps you think Jim can't hurt. I know better than that." + +"Did he ever thrash you, then?" + +"Half a dozen times." + +"Why didn't you tell his uncle?" + +"It would be no use. Jim would tell his story, and old Sock would +believe him. But here's Mr. Crabb, the usher, the man I was to introduce +you to." + +Hector looked up, and saw advancing a young man, dressed in rusty black, +with a meek and long-suffering expression, as one who was used to being +browbeaten. He was very shortsighted, and wore eyeglasses. + + + +CHAPTER XIII. IN THE SCHOOLROOM. + + + +"Mr. Crabb," said Wilkins, "this is the new scholar, Roscoe. Mr. Smith +asked me to bring him to you." + +"Ah, indeed!" said Crabb, adjusting his glasses, which seemed to sit +uneasily on his nose. "I hope you are well, Roscoe?" + +"Thank you, sir; my health is good." + +"The schoolbell will ring directly. Perhaps you had better come into the +schoolroom and select a desk." + +"Very well, sir." + +"Are you a classical scholar, Roscoe?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"And how far may you have gone now?" queried Crabb. + +"I was reading the fifth book of Virgil when I left off study." + +"Really, you are quite a scholar. I suppose you don't know any Greek?" + +"I was in the second book of the Anabasis." + +"You will go into the first class, then. I hope you will become one of +the ornaments of the institute." + +"Thank you. Is the first class under Mr. Smith?" + +"No; I teach the first class," said Crabb, with a modest cough. + +"I thought the principal usually took the first class himself?" + +"Mr. Smith comes into the room occasionally and supervises, but he has +too much business on hand to teach regularly himself." + +"Is Mr. Smith a good scholar?" asked Hector. + +"Ahem!" answered Mr. Crabb, evidently embarrassed; "I presume so. You +should not ask Ahem! irrelevant questions." + +In fact, Mr. Crabb had serious doubts as to the fact assumed. He knew +that whenever a pupil went to the principal to ask a question in +Latin or Greek, he was always referred to Crabb himself, or some other +teacher. This, to be sure, proved nothing, but in an unguarded moment, +Mr. Smith had ventured to answer a question himself, and his answer was +ludicrously incorrect. + +The schoolroom was a moderate-sized, dreary-looking room, with another +smaller room opening out of it, which was used as a separate recitation +room. + +"Here is a vacant desk," said Mr. Crabb, pointing out one centrally +situated. + +"I think that will do. Who sits at the next desk?" + +"Mr. Smith's nephew." + +"Oh, that big bully I saw on the playground?" + +"Hush!" said Crabb, apprehensively. "Mr. Smith would not like to have +you speak so of his nephew." + +"So, Mr. Crabb is afraid of the cad," soliloquized Hector. "I suppose I +may think what I please about him," he added, smiling pleasantly. + +"Ye-es, of course; but, Master Roscoe, let me advise you to be prudent." + +"Is he in your class?" + +"Yes." + +"Is he much of a scholar?" + +"I don't think he cares much for Latin and Greek," answered Mr. Crabb. +"But I must ring the bell. I see that it wants but five minutes of +nine." + +"About my desk?" + +"Here is another vacant desk, but it is not as well located." + +"Never mind. I will take it. I shall probably have a better neighbor." + +The bell was rung. Another teacher appeared, an elderly man, who +looked as if all his vitality had been expended on his thirty years +of teaching. He, too, was shabbily dressed--his coat being shiny and +napless, and his vest lacking two out of the five original buttons. + +"I guess Smith doesn't pay very high salaries," thought Hector. "Poor +fellows. His teachers look decidedly seedy." + +The boys began to pour in, not only those on the playground, but as many +more who lived in the village, and were merely day scholars. Jim +Smith stalked in with an independent manner and dropped into his seat +carelessly. He looked around him patronizingly. He felt that he was +master of the situation. Both ushers and all the pupils stood in fear of +him, as he well knew. Only to his uncle did he look up as his superior, +and he took care to be on good terms with him, as it was essential to +the maintenance of his personal authority. + +Last of all, Mr. Smith, the learned principal, walked into the +schoolroom with the air of a commanding general, followed by Allan +Roscoe, who he had invited to see the school in operation. + +Socrates Smith stood upright behind his desk, and waved his hand +majestically. + +"My young friends," he said; "this is a marked day. We have with us a +new boy, who is henceforth to be one of us, to be a member of our happy +family, to share in the estimable advantages which you all enjoy. Need I +say that I refer to Master Roscoe, the ward of our distinguished friend, +Mr. Allan Roscoe, who sits beside me, and with interest, I am sure, +surveys our institute?" + +As he spoke he turned towards Mr. Roscoe, who nodded an acknowledgment. + +"I may say to Mr. Roscoe that I am proud of my pupils, and the progress +they have made under my charge. (The principal quietly ignored the two +ushers who did all the teaching.) When these boys have reached a high +position in the world, it will be my proudest boast that they were +prepared for the duties of life at Smith Institute. Compared with this +proud satisfaction, the few paltry dollars I exact as my honorarium are +nothing--absolutely nothing." + +Socrates looked virtuous and disinterested as he gave utterance to this +sentiment. + +"And now, boys, you will commence your daily exercises, under the +direction of my learned associates, Mr. Crabb and Mr. Jones." + +Mr. Crabb looked feebly complacent at this compliment, though he knew it +was only because a visitor was present. In private, Socrates was rather +apt to speak slightingly of his attainments. + +"While I am absent with my distinguished friend, Mr. Roscoe, I expect +you to pursue your studies diligently, and preserve the most perfect +order." + +With these words, the stately figure of Socrates passed through the +door, followed by Mr. Roscoe. + +"A pleasant sight, Mr. Roscoe," said the principal; "this company of +ambitious, aspiring students, all pressing forward eagerly in pursuit of +learning?" + +"Quite true, sir," answered Allan Roscoe. + +"I wish you could stay with us for a whole day, to inspect at your +leisure the workings of our educational system." + +"Thank you, Mr. Smith," answered Mr. Roscoe, with an inward shudder; +"but I have important engagements that call me away immediately." + +"Then we must reluctantly take leave of you. I hope you will feel easy +about your nephew--" + +"My ward," corrected Allan Roscoe. + +"I beg your pardon--I should have remembered--your ward." + +"I leave him, with confidence, in your hands, my dear sir." + +So Allan Roscoe took his leave. + +Let us look in upon the aspiring and ambitious scholars, after Mr. Smith +left them in charge of the ushers. + +Jim Smith signalized his devotion to study by producing an apple core, +and throwing it with such skillful aim that it struck Mr. Crabb in the +back of the head. + +The usher turned quickly, his face flushed with wild indignation. + +"Who threw that missile?" he asked, in a vexed tone. + +Of course no one answered. + +"I hope no personal disrespect was intended," continued the usher. + +Again no answer. + +"Does anyone know who threw it?" asked Mr. Crabb. + +"I think it was the new scholar," said Jim Smith, with a malicious look +at Hector. + +"Master Roscoe," said Mr. Crabb, with a pained look, "I hope you have +not started so discreditably in your school life." + +"No, sir," answered Hector; "I hope I am not so ungentlemanly. I don't +like to be an informer, but I saw Smith himself throw it at you. As he +has chosen to lay it to me, I have no hesitation in exposing him." + +Jim Smith's face flushed with anger. + +"I'll get even with you, you young muff!" he said. + +"Whenever you please!" said Hector, disdainfully. + +"Really, young gentlemen, these proceedings are very irregular!" said +Mr. Crabb, feebly. + +With Jim Smith he did not remonstrate at all, though he had no doubt +that Hector's charge was rightly made. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. THE CLASS IN VIRGIL. + + + +Presently the class in Virgil was called up. To this class Hector had +been assigned, though it had only advanced about half through the third +book of the AEneid, while Hector was in the fifth. + +"As there is no other class in Virgil, Roscoe, you had better join the +one we have. It will do you no harm to review." + +"Very well, sir," said Hector. + +The class consisted of five boys, including Hector. Besides Jim Smith, +Wilkins, Bates and Johnson belonged to it. As twenty-five lines had been +assigned for a lesson, Hector had no difficulty in preparing himself, +and that in a brief time. The other boys were understood to have studied +the lesson out of school. + +Bates read first, and did very fairly. Next came Jim Smith, who did +not seem quite so much at home in Latin poetry as on the playground. +He pronounced the Latin words in flagrant violation of all the rules of +quantity, and when he came to give the English meaning, his translation +was a ludicrous farrago of nonsense. Yet, poor Mr. Crabb did not dare, +apparently, to characterize it as it deserved. + +"I don't think you have quite caught the author's meaning, Mr. Smith," +he said. By the way, Jim was the only pupil to whose name he prefixed +the title "Mr." + +"I couldn't make anything else out of it," muttered Jim. + +"Perhaps some other member of the class may have been more successful! +Johnson, how do you read it?" + +"I don't understand it very well, sir." + +"Wilkins, were you more successful?" + +"No, sir." + +"Roscoe, can you translate the passage?" + +"I think so, sir." + +"Proceed, then." + +Hector at once gave a clear and luminous rendering of the passage, and +his version was not only correct, but was expressed in decent English. +This is a point in which young classical scholars are apt to fail. + +Mr. Crabb was not in the habit of hearing such good translations, and he +was surprised and gratified. + +"Very well! Very well, indeed, Roscoe," he said, approvingly. "Mr. +Smith, you may go on." + +"He'd better go ahead and finish it," said Smith, sulkily. "He probably +got it out of a pony." + +My young readers who are in college or classical schools, will +understand that a "pony" is an English translation of a classical +author. + +"He is mistaken!" said Hector, quietly. "I have never seen a translation +of Virgil." + +Mr. Smith shrugged his shoulders, and drew down the corners of his +mouth, intending thereby to express his incredulity. + +"I hope no boy will use a translation," said the usher; "it will make +his work easier for the time being, but in the end it will embarrass +him. Roscoe, as you have commenced, you may continue. Translate the +remainder of the passage." + +Hector did so, exhibiting equal readiness. + +The other boys took their turns, and then words were given out to parse. +Here Jim Smith showed himself quite at sea; though the usher, as it was +evident, selected the easiest words for him, he made a mistake in every +one. Apparently he was by no means certain which of the words were +nouns, and which verbs, and as to the relations which they sustained to +other words in the sentence he appeared to have very little conception. + +At length the recitation was over. It had demonstrated one thing, that +in Latin scholarship Hector was far more accurate and proficient than +any of his classmates, while Jim Smith stood far below all the rest. + +"What in the world can the teacher be thinking of, to keep such an +ignoramus in the class?" thought Hector. "He doesn't know enough to join +a class in the Latin Reader." + +The fact was, that Jim Smith was unwilling to give up his place as a +member of the highest class in Latin, because he knew it would detract +from his rank in the school. Mr. Crabb, to whom every recitation was a +torture, had one day ventured to suggest that it would be better to +drop into the Caesar class; but he never ventured to make the suggestion +again, so unfavorably was it received by his backward pupil. He might, +in the case of a different pupil, have referred the matter to the +principal, but Socrates Smith was sure to decide according to the wishes +of his nephew, and did not himself possess knowledge enough of the Latin +tongue to detect his gross mistakes. + +After a time came recess. Hector wished to arrange the books in his +desk, and did not go out. + +Mr. Crabb came up to his desk and said: "Roscoe, I must compliment you +on your scholarship. You enter at the head. You are in advance of all +the other members of the class." + +"Thank you, sir," said Hector, gratified. + +"There is one member of the class who is not competent to remain in it." + +"Yes, sir; I observed that." + +"But he is unwilling to join a lower class. It is a trial to me to hear +his daily failures, but, perhaps, he would do no better anywhere else. +He would be as incompetent to interpret Caesar as Virgil, I am afraid." + +"So I should suppose, sir." + +"By the way, Roscoe," said the usher, hurriedly; "let me caution you +against irritating Smith. He is the principal's nephew, and so we give +him more scope." + +"He seems to me a bully," said Hector. + +"So he is." + +"I can't understand why the boys should give in to him as they do." + +"He is taller and stronger than the other boys. Besides, he is backed up +by the principal. I hope you won't get into difficulty with him." + +"Thank you, Mr. Crabb. Your caution is kindly meant, but I am not afraid +of this Jim--Smith. I am quite able to defend myself if attacked." + +"I hope so," said the usher; but he scanned Hector's physical +proportions doubtfully, and it was very clear that he did not think him +a match for the young tyrant of the school. + +Meanwhile, Jim Smith and his schoolfellows were amusing themselves in +the playground. + +"Where's that new fellow?" asked Jim, looking back to see whether he had +come out. + +"He didn't come out," said Bates. + +Jim nodded his head vigorously: + +"Just as I expected," he said. "He knows where he is well off." + +"Do you think he was afraid to come?" asked Bates. + +"To be sure he was. He knew what to expect." + +"Are you going to thrash him?" asked Johnson. + +"I should say I might." + +"He's a very good Latin scholar," remarked Wilkins. + +"He thinks he is!" sneered Jim. + +"So Mr. Crabb appears to think." + +"That for old Crabb!" said Jim, contemptuously, snapping his fingers. +"He don't know much himself. I've caught him in plenty of mistakes." + +This was certainly very amusing, considering Smith's absolute ignorance +of even the Latin rudiments, but the boys around him did not venture to +contradict him. + +"But it don't make any difference whether he knows Latin or not," +proceeded Jim. "He has been impudent to me, and he shall suffer for it. +I was hoping to get a chance at him this recess, but it'll keep." + +"You might spoil his appetite for dinner," said Bates, who was rather a +toady to Jim. + +"That's just exactly what I expect to do; at any rate, for supper. I've +got to have a reckoning with that young muff." + +The recess lasted fifteen minutes. At the end of that time the +schoolbell rang, and the boys trooped back into the schoolroom. + +Hector sat at his desk looking tranquil and at ease. He alone seemed +unaware of the fate that was destined for him. + + + + +CHAPTER X. DINNER AT SMITH INSTITUTE. + + + +At twelve o'clock the morning session closed. Then came an intermission +of an hour, during which the day scholars either ate lunch brought with +them, or went to their homes in the village to partake of a warm repast. + +At ten minutes past twelve, a red-armed servant girl made her appearance +at the back door looking out on the playground, and rang a huge dinner +bell. The boys dropped their games, and made what haste they could to +the dining room. + +"Now for a feast!" said Wilkins to Hector, significantly. + +"Does Mr. Smith furnish good board?" asked Hector, for he felt the +hunger of a healthy boy who had taken an early breakfast. + +"Good grub?" said Wilkins, making a face. "Wait till you see. Old Sock +isn't going to ruin himself providing his pupils with the delicacies of +the season." + +"I'm sorry for that. I am confoundedly hungry." + +"Hungry!" exclaimed Wilkins. "I've been I hungry ever since I came +here." + +"Is it as bad as that?" asked Hector, rather alarmed. + +"I should say so. I haven't had a square meal--what I call a square +meal--for four weeks, and that's just the time since I left home." + +They had reached the door of the dining-room by this time. + +In the center stood a long table, but there didn't seem to be much on it +except empty plates. At a side table stood Mrs. Smith, ladling out soup +from a large tureen. + +"That's the first course," whispered Wilkins. "I hope you'll like it." + +The boys filed in and took seats. The servant girl already referred to +began to bring plates of soup and set before the boys. It was a thin, +unwholesome-looking mixture, with one or two small pieces of meat, about +the size of a chestnut, in each plate, and fragments of potatoes and +carrots. A small, triangular wedge of dry bread was furnished with each +portion of soup. + +"We all begin to eat together. Don't be in a hurry," said Wilkins, in a +low tone. + +When all the boys were served, Socrates Smith, who sat in an armchair at +the head of the table, said: + +"Boys, we are now about to partake of the bounties of Providence, let me +hope, with grateful hearts." + +He touched a hand bell, and the boys took up their soup spoons. + +Hector put a spoonful gingerly into his mouth, and then, stopping short, +looked at Wilkins. His face was evidently struggling not to express +disgust. + +"Is it always as bad?" he asked, in a whisper. + +"Yes," answered Wilkins, shrugging his shoulders. + +"But you eat it!" + +Wilkins had already swallowed his third spoonful. + +"I don't want to starve," answered Wilkins, significantly. "You'll get +used to it in time." + +Hector tried to dispose of a second spoonful, but he had to give it up. +At home he was accustomed to a luxurious table, and this meal seemed to +be a mere mockery. Yet he felt hungry. So he took up the piece of bread +at the side of his plate, and, though it was dry, he succeeded in eating +it. + +By this time his left-hand neighbor, a boy named Colburn, had finished +his soup. He looked longingly at Hector's almost untasted plate. + +"Ain't you going to eat your soup?" he asked, in a hoarse whisper + +"No." + +"Give it to me?" + +"Yes." + +In a trice, Colburn had appropriated Hector's plate and put his own +empty one in its place. Just after this transfer had been made, Mr. +Smith looked over to where Hector was sitting. He observed the empty +plate, and said to himself: "That new boy has been gorging himself. He +must have a terrible appetite. Well, that's one good thing, he ain't +dainty. Some boys turn up their noses at plain, wholesome diet. I didn't +know but he might." + +Presently the hand bell rang again, and the soup plates were removed. In +their places were set dinner plates, containing a small section each of +corned beef, with a consumptive-looking potato, very probably "soggy." +At any rate, this was the case with Hector's. He succeeded in eating the +meat, but not the potato. + +"Give me your potato?" asked his left-hand neighbor. + +"Yes." + +It was quickly appropriated. Hector looked with some curiosity at the +boy who did so much justice to boarding-school fare. He was a thin, pale +boy, who looked as if he had been growing rapidly, as, indeed, he had. +This, perhaps, it was that stimulated his appetite. Afterward Hector +asked him if he really liked his meals. + +"No," he said; "they're nasty." + +He was an English boy, which accounted for his use of the last word. + +"You eat them as if you liked them," remarked Hector. + +"I'm so hungry," apologized Colburn, mournfully. "I'm always hungry. I +eat to fill up, not 'cause I like it. I could eat anything." + +"I believe he could," said Wilkins, who overheard this conversation. +"Could you eat fried cat, now?" he asked. + +"Yes," answered Colburn, honestly. "There would be something hearty and +filling about fried cat. I ain't half full now." + +It was just after dinner. + +Hector might have said the same thing at the end of his first dinner. +There was, indeed, another course. It consisted of some pale, flabby +apple pie, about half baked. The slices given were about half the size +of those that are ordinarily supplied at private tables and restaurants. +Hector managed to eat the apple, but the crust he was obliged to leave. +He noticed, however, that his fellow pupils were not so fastidious. + +When the last fragment of pie had disappeared, Mr. Smith again rang the +hand bell. + +"Boys," he said, "we have now satisfied our appetites." + +"I haven't," thought Hector. + +"We have once more experienced the bountiful goodness of Providence in +supplying our material wants. As we sit down to our plain but wholesome +diet, I wonder how many of us are sensible of our good fortune. I wonder +how many of us think of the thousands of poor children, scattered about +the world, who know not where to get their daily bread. You have been +refreshed, and have reinforced your strength; you will soon be ready to +resume your studies, and thus, also, take in a supply of mental food, +for, as you are all aware, or ought to be aware, the mind needs to be +fed as well as the body. There will first be a short season for games +and out-of-door amusements. Mr. Crabb, will you accompany the boys to +the playground and superintend their sports?" + +Mr. Crabb also had participated in the rich feast, and rose with the +same unsatisfied but resigned look which characterized the rest. He led +the way to the playground, and the boys trooped after him. + +"Really, Wilkins," said Hector, in a low tone, "this is getting serious. +Isn't there any place outside where one can get something to eat?" + +"There's a baker's half a mile away, but you can't go till after +afternoon session." + +"Show me the way there, then, and I'll buy something for both of us." + +"All right," said Wilkins, brightening up. + +"By the way, I didn't see Jim Smith at the table." + +"No; he eats with his uncle and aunt afterward. You noticed that old +Sock didn't eat just now." + +"Yes, I wondered at it." + +"He has something a good deal better afterward. He wouldn't like our +dinner any better than we did; but he is better off, for he needn't eat +it." + +"So Jim fares better than the rest of us, does he?" + +"Yes, he's one of the family, you know." + +Just then pleasant fumes were wafted to the boys' nostrils, and they saw +through the open window, with feelings that cannot well be described, a +pair of roast chickens carried from the kitchen to the dining-room. + +"See what old Sock and Ma'am Sock are going to have for dinner?" said +Wilkins, enviously. + +"I don't like to look at it. It is too tantalizing," said Hector. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. HECTOR RECEIVES A SUMMONS. + + + +It so happened that Hector was well provided with money. During the +life of Mr. Roscoe, whom he regarded as his father, he had a liberal +allowance--liberal beyond his needs--and out of it had put by somewhat +over a hundred dollars. The greater part of this was deposited for +safe-keeping in a savings bank, but he had twenty-five dollars in his +possession. + +At the time he was saving his money, he regarded himself as the heir and +future possessor of the estate, and had no expectation of ever needing +it. It had been in his mind that it would give him an opportunity of +helping, out of his private funds, any deserving poor person who might +apply to him. When the unexpected revelation had been made to him +that he had no claim to the estate, he was glad that he was not quite +penniless. He did not care to apply for money to Allan Roscoe. It would +have been a confession of dependence, and very humiliating to him. + +No sooner was school out, than he asked Wilkins to accompany him to +the baker's, that he might make up for the deficiencies of Mr. Smith's +meager table. + +"I suppose, if I guide you, you'll stand treat, Roscoe?" said Wilkins. + +"Of course." + +"Then let us go," said his schoolfellow, with alacrity. "I'd like to get +the taste of that beastly dinner out of my mouth." + +They found the baker's, but close beside it was a restaurant, where more +substantial fare could be obtained. + +"Wilkins," said Hector, "I think I would rather have a plate of meat." + +"All right! I'm with you." + +So the two boys went into the restaurant, and ordered plates of roast +beef, which they ate with evident enjoyment. + +"I guess," said the waiter, grinning, "you two chaps come from the +institute." + +"Yes," answered Hector. "What makes you think so?" + +"The way you eat. They do say old Smith half starves the boys." + +"You're not far from right," said Wilkins; "but it isn't alone the +quantity, but the quality that's amiss." + +They ate their dinner, leaving not a crumb, and then rose refreshed. + +"I feel splendid," said Wilkins. "I just wish I boarded at the +restaurant instead of the doctor's. Thank you, Roscoe, for inviting me." + +"All right, Wilkins! We'll come again some day." + +Somehow the extra dinner seemed to warm the heart of Wilkins, and +inspire in him a feeling of friendly interest for Hector. + +"I say, Hector, I'll tell you something." + +"Go ahead." + +"You've got to keep your eyes open." + +"I generally do," answered Hector, smiling, "except at night." + +"I mean when Jim Smith's round." + +"Why particularly when he is around?" + +"Because he means to thrash you." + +"What for?" + +"You are too independent. You don't bow down to him, and look up to +him." + +"I don't mean to," said Hector, promptly. + +"If you don't you'll see trouble, and that very soon." + +"Let it come!" said Hector, rather contemptuously. + +"You don't seem afraid!" said Wilkins, regarding him curiously. + +"Because I am not afraid. Isn't that a good reason?" + +"You don't think you can stand up against Jim, do you?" + +"I will see when the time comes." + +"I shouldn't be a bit surprised if he were looking out for you at this +very moment, and wondering where you are." + +It seemed that Wilkins was right. As they approached the school grounds, +John Bates came running to meet them. + +"Where have you been, you two?" he said. + +"To the village," answered Wilkins. + +"What for?" + +"For a walk," answered Wilkins, with a warning glance at Hector. It +would have been awkward if the principal had heard that they had been +compelled to eke out their meager dinner at a restaurant. + +"Well, Jim wants you. Leastways, he wants Roscoe." + +Bates looked as if he expected Roscoe would immediately hasten to comply +with the wishes of the redoubtable Jim. + +"If he wants me, he can come to me," said Hector, independently. + +"But I say, that won't do. Jim won't be satisfied." + +"Won't he? I don't know that that particularly concerns me." + +"Shall I tell him that?" + +"If you choose." + +Bates looked as if Hector had been guilty of some enormity. What, defy +the wishes, the mandates, of Jim Smith, the king of the school and the +tyrant of all the small boys! He felt that Hector Roscoe was rushing on +his fate. + +"I advise you to come," he said, "Jim's mad with you already, and he'll +lick you worse if you send him a message like that." + +"He will probably have to take blows, as well as give them," said +Hector. + +"Then I am to tell him what you said?" + +"Of course." + +With a look that seemed to say, "Your fate be on your own head!" Bates +walked away. + +"John Bates is always toadying to Jim," said Wilkins. "So he's prime +favorite when Jim is good-natured--when he's cross, I've seen him kick +Bates." + +"And Bates didn't resent it?" + +"He didn't dare to. He'd come round him the next day the same as ever." + +"Has the boy no self-respect?" asked Hector, in a tone of disgust. + +"He doesn't seem to have." + +As soon as school was out, Jim Smith had looked round for the new boy, +who seemed disposed to defy his authority. On account of eating at +different tables, they had not met during the noon intermission. At any +rate, there had not been time to settle the question of subserviency. +Through the afternoon session Jim had been anticipating the signal +punishment which he intended to inflict upon the newcomer. + +"I'll show him!" he said to himself. "Tomorrow he'll be singing a +different tune, or I am mistaken." + +This was the way Jim had been accustomed to break in refractory new +arrivals. The logic of his fist usually proved a convincing argument, +and thus far his supremacy had never been successfully resisted. He +was confident that he would not be interfered with. Secretly, his Uncle +Socrates sympathized with him, and relished the thought that his +nephew, who so strongly resembled him in mind and person, should be +the undisputed boss--to use a word common in political circles--of the +school. He discreetly ignored the conflicts which he knew took place, +and if any luckless boy, the victim of Jim's brutality, ventured to +appeal to him, the boy soon found that he himself was arraigned, and not +the one who had abused him. + +"Where's that new boy?" asked Jim, as he left the schoolroom. + +He had not seen our hero's departure--but his ready tool, Bates, had. + +"I saw him sneaking off with Wilkins," said Bates. + +"Where did they go?" + +"To the Village, I guess." + +"They seemed to be in a hurry," said Jim, with a sneer. + +"They wanted to get out of your way--that is, the new boy did," +suggested Bates. + +Jim nodded. + +"Likely he did," he answered. "So he went to the village, did he?" + +"Yes; I saw him." + +"Well, he's put it off a little. That boy's cranky. I'm goin' to give +him a lesson he won't forget very soon." + +"So you will, so you will, Jim," chuckled Bates. + +"That's the way I generally take down these boys that put on airs," +said Jim, complacently. "This Roscoe's the worst case I've had yet. So +Wilkins went off with him, did he?" + +"Yes; I saw them go off together." + +"I'll have to give Wilkins a little reminder, then. It won't be safe to +take up with them that defy me. I'll just give him a kick to help his +memory." + +"He won't like that much, oh, my!" chuckled Bates. + +"When you see them coming, Bates, go and tell Roscoe I want to see him," +said Jim, with the air of an autocrat. + +"All right, Jim," said Bates, obediently. + +So he went on his errand, and we know what success he met with. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. THE IMPENDING CONFLICT. + + + +Jim Smith stood leaning indolently against a post, when his emissary, +Bates, returned from his errand. He was experiencing "that stern joy" +which bullies feel just before an encounter with a foeman inferior in +strength, whom they expect easily to master. Several of the boys were +near by--sycophantic followers of Jim, who were enjoying in advance the +rumpus they expected. I am afraid schoolboys do not always sympathize +with the weaker side. In the present instance, there was hardly a boy +who had not at some time or other felt the weight of Jim's fist, and, as +there is an old saying that "misery loves company," it was not, perhaps, +a matter of wonder that they looked forward with interest to seeing +another suffer the same ill-treatment which they had on former occasions +received! + +Presently Bates came back. + +Jim looked over his head for the boy whom he expected to see in his +company. + +"Where's the new boy?" he demanded, with a frown. + +"He won't come." + +"Won't come?" repeated Jim, with an ominous frown. "Did you tell him I +wanted him?" + +"Yes, I did." + +"And what did he say?" + +"That if you wanted to see him, you could come to him." + +All the boys regarded each other with looks of surprise. Was it possible +that any boy in Smith Institute could have the boldness to send such a +message to Jim! Most of all, Jim was moved by such a bold defiance of +his authority. For the moment, he could not think of any adequate terms +in which to express his feelings. + +"Did the new boy say that?" he asked, hoarsely. + +"Yes, he did." + +Jim nodded his head vigorously two or three times. + +"You fellows," he said, appealing to the boys around him, "did you ever +hear such impudence?" + +"No!" "Never!" exclaimed the boys in concert, Bates being the loudest +and most emphatic. + +"I have never been so insulted since I was at the institute," said Jim, +again looking about him for a confirmation of his statement. + +"It's because he's a new boy. He don't understand," suggested one. + +"That's no excuse," said Jim, sternly. "He needn't think I'll let him +off on that account." + +"Of course not," answered Bates. + +"What would you advise me to do, boys?" asked Jim, with the air of a +monarch asking the opinion of his counselors. + +"Thrash him till he can't stand!" said the subservient Bates. He was +always ready to go farther than anyone else in supporting and defending +the authority of the tyrant of the playground. + +"Bates, you are right. I shall follow your advice," said Jim. "Where is +the young reprobate?" + +"He is over in Carver's field." + +"Is anyone with him?" + +"Yes, Wilkins." + +"Ha! Wilkins and I will have an account to settle. If he is going to +side with this young rascal he must take the consequences. So, he's over +in the field, is he? What's he doing?" + +"I think he was going to walk down to the brook." + +Carver's field was a tract, several acres in extent, of pasture land, +sloping down to one corner, where a brook trickled along quietly. Here +three large trees were located, under whose spreading branches the boys, +in the intervals of study, used often to stretch themselves for a chat +or engage in some schoolboy games, such as nimble peg or quoits. The +owner of the field was an easy-going man, who did not appear to be +troubled by the visits of the boys, as long as they did not maltreat the +peaceful cows who gathered their subsistence from the scanty grass that +grew there. + +"He wants to keep out of your way, I guess," volunteered Bates. + +As this suggestion was flattering to the pride of the "boss," it was +graciously received. + +"Very likely," he said; "but he'll find that isn't so easy. Boys, follow +me, if you want to see some fun." + +Jim started with his loose stride for the field, where he expected to +meet his adversary, or, rather, victim, for so he considered him, and +the smaller boys followed him with alacrity. There was going to be a +scrimmage, and they all wanted to see it. + +Jim and his followers issued from the gate, and, crossing the street, +scaled the bars that separated Carver's field from the highway. Already +they could see the two boys--Roscoe and Wilkins-slowly walking, and +nearly arrived at the brook in the lower part of the field. + +"He doesn't seem much afraid," remarked Talbot, one of the recent +comers, incautiously. + +Upon him immediately Jim frowned ominously. + +"So you are taking sides with him, Talbot, are you?" he said, +imperiously. + +"No, Jim," answered Talbot, hurriedly, for he now saw that he had been +guilty of an imprudence. + +"What made you say he wasn't scared, then?" + +"I only said he didn't seem afraid," answered Talbot, apologetically. + +"Be careful what you say in future, young fellow!" said Jim, sternly; +"that is, if you are a friend of mine. If you are going over to Roscoe, +you can go, and I shall know how to treat you." + +"But I am not going over to him. I don't like him," said the cowardly +boy. + +"Very well; I accept your apology this time. In future be careful what +you say." + +By this time Wilkins and Roscoe had reached the clump of big trees, and +had seated themselves under their ample branches. Then, for the first +time, glancing backward toward the school, they became aware of the +advancing troop of boys. Wilkins saw them first. + +"There's Jim coming!" he exclaimed. "Now you are in a pickle. He means +business." + +"I suppose," said Hector, coolly, "he has decided to accept my +invitation, and come to see me." + +"You'll find he has," said Wilkins, significantly. + +"He seems to have considerable company," remarked Hector, scanning the +approaching party with tranquillity. + +"They're coming to see the fun!" said Wilkins. + +"I suppose you mean the fight between Jim Smith and myself." + +"Well, not exactly. They've come to see you thrashed." + +Hector smiled. + +"Suppose they should see Jim thrashed instead--what then?" + +"They might be surprised: but I don't think they will be," answered +Wilkins, dryly. He was, on the whole, well disposed toward Hector, and +he certainly disliked Jim heartily, but he did not allow his judgment to +be swayed by his preferences, and he could foresee but one issue to the +impending conflict. There was one thing that puzzled him exceedingly, +and that was Hector's coolness on the brink of a severe thrashing, such +as Jim was sure to give him for his daring defiance and disregard of his +authority. + +"You're a queer boy, Hector," he said. "You don't seem in the least +alarmed." + +"I am not in the least alarmed," answered Hector. "Why should I be?" + +"You don't mind being thrashed, then?" + +"I might mind; but I don't mean to be thrashed if I can help it." + +"But you can't help it, you know." + +"Well, that will soon be decided." + +There was no time for any further conversation, for Jim and his +followers were close at hand. + +Jim opened the campaign by calling Hector to account. + +"Look here, you new boy," he said, "didn't Bates tell you that I wanted +to see you?" + +"Yes," answered Hector, looking up, indifferently. + +"Well, why didn't you come to me at once, hey?" + +"Because I didn't choose to. I sent word if you wished to see me, to +come where I was." + +"What do you mean by such impudence, hey?" + +"I mean this, Jim Smith, that you have no authority over me and never +will have. I have not been here long, but I have been here long enough +to find out that you are a cowardly bully and ruffian. How all these +boys can give in to you, I can't understand." + +Jim Smith almost foamed at the mouth with rage. + +"You'll pay for this," he howled, pulling off his coat, in furious +haste. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. WHO SHALL BE VICTOR? + + + +Hector was not slow to accept the challenge conveyed by his antagonist's +action. He, too, sprang to his feet, flung off his coat, and stood +facing the bully. + +Hector was three inches shorter, and more than as many years younger, +than Jim. But his figure was well proportioned and strongly put +together, as the boys could see. On the other hand; Jim Smith was +loosely put together, and, though tall, he was not well proportioned. +His arms were long and his movements were clumsy. His frame, however, +was large, and he had considerable strength, but it had never been +disciplined. He had never learned to box, and was ignorant of the first +rudiments of the art of self-defense. But he was larger and stronger +than any of his school-fellows, and he had thus far had no difficulty in +overcoming opposition to his despotic rule. + +The boys regarded the two combatants with intense interest. They could +see that Hector was not alarmed, and meant to defend himself. So there +was likely to be a contest, although they could not but anticipate an +easy victory for the hitherto champion of the school. + +Hector did not propose to make the attack. He walked forward to a +favorable place and took his stand. The position he assumed would have +assured the casual observer that he knew something of the art in which +his larger antagonist was deficient. + +"So you are ready to fight, are you?" said Jim. + +"You can see for yourself." + +Jim rushed forward, intending to bear down all opposition. He was +whirling his long arms awkwardly, and it was clear to see that he +intended to seize Hector about the body and fling him to the earth. Had +he managed to secure the grip he desired, opposition would have been +vain, and he would have compassed his design. But Hector was far too +wary to allow anything of this kind. He evaded Jim's grasp by jumping +backward, then dashing forward while his opponent was somewhat unsteady +from the failure of his attempt, he dealt him a powerful blow in the +face. + +Jim Smith was unprepared for such prompt action. He reeled, and came +near falling. It may safely be said, also, that his astonishment was as +great as his indignation, and that was unbounded. + +"So that's your game, is it?" he exclaimed, furiously. "I'll pay you for +this, see if I don't." + +Hector did not reply. He did not propose to carry on the battle by +words. Already the matter had come to a sterner arbitrament, and he +stood on the alert, all his senses under absolute control, watching his +big antagonist, and, from the expression of his face, seeking to divine +his next mode of attack. He had this advantage over Jim, that he was +cool and collected, while Jim was angry and rendered imprudent by his +anger. Notwithstanding his first repulse, he did not fully understand +that the new boy was a much more formidable opponent than he +anticipated. Nor did he appreciate the advantage which science gives +over brute force. He, therefore, rushed forward again, with the same +impetuosity as before, and was received in precisely the same way. +This time the blood started from his nose and coursed over his inflamed +countenance, while Hector was still absolutely unhurt. + +Meanwhile the boys looked on in decided amazement. It had been as far +as possible from their thoughts that Hector could stand up successfully +against the bully even for an instant. Yet here two attacks had been +made, and the champion was decidedly worsted. They could not believe the +testimony of their eyes. + +Carried away by the excitement of the moment, Wilkins, who, as we have +said, was disposed to espouse the side of Hector, broke into a shout of +encouragement. + +"Good boy, Roscoe!" he exclaimed. "You're doing well!" + +Two or three of the other boys, those who were least under the +domination of Jim, and were only waiting for an opportunity of breaking +away from their allegiance, echoed the words of Wilkins. If there was +anything that could increase the anger and mortification of the tyrant +it was these signs of failing allegiance. What! was he to lose his hold +over these boys, and that because he was unable to cope with a boy much +smaller and younger than himself? Perish the thought! It nerved him to +desperation, and he prepared for a still more impetuous assault. + +Somewhere in his Greek reader, Hector had met with a saying attributed +to Pindar, that "boldness is the beginning of victory." He felt that +the time had now come for a decisive stroke. He did not content +himself, therefore, with parrying, or simply repelling the blow of his +antagonist, but he on his part assumed the offensive. He dealt his blows +with bewildering rapidity, pressed upon Jim, skillfully evading the +grasp of his long arms, and in a trice the champion measured his length +upon the greensward. + +Of course, he did not remain there. He sprang to his feet, and renewed +the attack. But he had lost his confidence. He was bewildered, and, to +confess the truth, panic-stricken, and the second skirmish was briefer +than the first. + +When, for the third time, he fell back, with his young opponent standing +erect and vigorous, the enthusiasm of the boys overcame the limits of +prudence. There was a shout of approval, and the fallen champion, to +add to his discomfiture, was forced to listen to his own hitherto +subservient followers shouting, "Hurrah for the new boy! Hurrah for +Hector Roscoe!" + +This was too much for Jim. + +He rose from the ground sullenly, looked about him with indignation +which he could not control, and, shaking his fist, not at one boy in +particular, but at the whole company, exclaimed: "You'll be sorry for +this, you fellows! You can leave me, and stand by the new boy if you +want to, but you'll be sorry for it. I'll thrash you one by one, as I +have often done before." + +"Try Roscoe first!" said one boy, jeeringly. + +"I'll try you first!" said Jim; and too angry to postpone his intention, +he made a rush for the offender. + +The latter, who knew he was no match for the angry bully, turned and +fled. Jim prepared to follow him, when he was brought to by Hector +placing himself in his path. + +"Let that boy alone!" he said, sternly. + +"What business is it of yours?" demanded Jim, doggedly; but he did not +offer to renew the attack, however. + +"It will be my business to put an end to your tyranny and bullying," +said Hector, undauntedly. "If you dare to touch one of these boys, you +will have to meet me as well." + +Jim had had enough of encountering Hector. He did not care to make a +humiliating spectacle of himself any more before his old flatterers. But +his resources were not at an end. + +"You think yourself mighty smart!" he said, with what was intended to be +withering sarcasm. "You haven't got through with me yet." + +He did not, however, offer to pursue the boy who had been the first to +break away from his allegiance. He put on his coat, and turned to walk +toward the school, saying, "You'll hear from me again, and that pretty +soon!" + +None of his late followers offered to accompany him. He had come to the +contest with a band of friends and supporters. He left it alone. Even +Bates, his most devoted adherent, remained behind, and did not offer to +accompany the discrowned and dethroned monarch. + +"What's Jim going to do?" asked Talbot. + +"He's going to tell old Sock, and get us all into trouble." + +"It'll be a cowardly thing to do!" said Wilkins. "He's been fairly +beaten in battle, and he ought to submit to it." + +"He won't if he can help it." + +"I say, boys, three cheers for the new boy!" exclaimed Wilkins. + +They were given with a will, and the boys pressed forward to shake the +hand of the boy whose prowess they admired. + +"Thank you, boys!" said Hector, "but I'd rather be congratulated on +something else. I would rather be a good scholar than a good fighter." + +But the boys were evidently of a different opinion, and elevated Hector +straightway to the rank of a hero. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. SOCRATES CALLS HECTOR TO ACCOUNT. + + + +Jim Smith, as he walked back to the institute, nursing his wrath, felt +very much like a dethroned king. He was very anxious to be revenged upon +Hector, but the lesson he had received made him cautious. He must get +him into trouble by some means. Should he complain to his uncle? It +would involve the necessity of admitting his defeat, unless he could +gloss over the story in some way. + +This he decided to do. + +On reaching the school he sought his dormitory, and carefully wiped away +the blood from his face. Then he combed his hair and arranged his dress, +and sought his uncle. + +Mr. Smith was at his desk, looking over his accounts, and estimating the +profits of the half year, when his nephew made his appearance. + +"Uncle Socrates, I'd like to speak to you." + +"Very well, James. Proceed." + +"I want to complain of the new boy who came this morning." + +Socrates Smith looked up in genuine surprise. As a general thing, +his nephew brought few complaints, for he took the responsibility of +punishing boys he did not like himself. + +"What! Roscoe?" inquired the principal. + +"Yes." + +"Is he in any mischief?" + +"Mischief? I should say so! Why, he's a regular young Turk." + +"A young Turk? I don't think I understand you, James." + +"I mean, he's a young ruffian." + +"What has he been doing?" asked Socrates, in surprise. + +"He pitched into me a short time ago," said Jim, in some embarrassment. + +"Pitched into you! You don't mean to say that he attacked you?" + +"Yes, I do." + +"But he's a considerably smaller boy than you, James. I am surprised +that he should have dared to attack you." + +"Yes, he is small, but he's a regular fighter." + +"I suppose you gave him a lesson?" + +"Ye-es, of course." + +"So that he won't be very likely to renew the attack." + +"Well, I don't know about that. He's tough and wiry, and understands +boxing. I found it hard work to thrash him." + +"But you did thrash him?" said Socrates, puzzled. + +"Yes." + +"Then what do you want me to do?" + +"I thought you might punish him for being quarrelsome." + +"It may be a good idea. I remember now that his uncle warned me that he +would need restraining." + +"Just so, uncle," said Jim, eagerly. "His uncle was right." + +"Well, I will give him a lecture. He will find that he cannot behave as +he pleases at Smith Institute," said Socrates, pompously. "He will find +that I do not tolerate any defiance of authority. I will speak of it +after vespers." + +"Thank you, uncle." + +"He'll get a raking down!" thought Jim, with gratification. "I'll make +it hot for him here, he may be sure of that." + +Half an hour after supper was read a brief evening service called +vespers, and then the boys' study hours commenced. During this time they +were expected to be preparing their lessons for the next day. + +The service was generally read by Socrates Smith, A. M., in person. It +was one of the few official duties he performed, and he was generally +very imposing in his manner on this occasion. + +When the service had been read on that particular evening, the principal +did not immediately give the signal for study to be commenced. Instead, +he cleared his throat, saying: + +"Boys, I have a few words to say to you. This morning a new boy made his +appearance among us. His uncle, or perhaps I should say his guardian, +attracted by the well-deserved fame of Smith Institute, came hither to +enter him among my pupils. I received him cordially, and promised +that he should share with you the rich, the inestimable educational +advantages which our humble seminary affords. I hoped he would be an +acquisition, that by his obedience and his fidelity to duty he would +shed luster on our school." + +Here Socrates blew his nose sonorously, and resumed: + +"But what has happened? On the very first day of his residence here he +brutally assaults one of our numbers, my nephew, and displays the savage +instincts of a barbarian. His uncle did well to warn me that he would +need salutary restraint." + +Hector, who had been amused by the solemn and impressive remarks of +Socrates, looked up in surprise. Had Allan Roscoe really traduced him +in this manner, after robbing him of his inheritance, as Hector felt +convinced that he had done? + +"Hector Roscoe!" said Socrates, severely; "stand up, and let me hear +what you have to say for yourself." + +Hector rose calmly, and faced the principal, by no means awe-stricken at +the grave arraignment to which he had listened. + +"I say this, Mr. Smith," he answered, "that I did not attack your +nephew till he had first attacked me. This he did without the slightest +provocation, and I defended myself, as I had a right to do." + +"It's a lie!" muttered Jim, in a tone audible to his uncle. + +"My nephew's report is of a different character. I am disposed to +believe him." + +"I regret to say, sir, that he has made a false statement. I will give +you an account of what actually occurred. On my return from a walk he +sent a boy summoning me to his presence. As he was not a teacher, and +had no more authority over me than I over him, I declined to obey, but +sent word that if he wished to see me he could come where I was. I then +walked down to the brook in Carver's field. He followed me, as soon +as he had received my message, and, charging me with impertinence, +challenged me to a fight. Well, we had a fight; but he attacked me +first." + +"I don't know whether this account is correct or not," said Socrates, a +little nonplused by this new version of the affair. + +"I am ready to accept the decision of any one of the boys," said Hector. + +"Bates," said Socrates, who knew that this boy was an adherent of his +nephew, "is this account of Roscoe's true?" + +Bates hesitated a moment. He was still afraid of Jim, but when he +thought of Hector's prowess, he concluded that he had better tell the +truth. + +"Yes, sir," he answered. + +Jim Smith darted an angry and menacing glance at his failing adherent. + +"Ahem!" said Socrates, looking puzzled: "it is not quite so bad as I +supposed. I regret, however, that you have exhibited such a quarrelsome +disposition." + +"I don't think I am quarrelsome, sir," said Hector. + +"Silence, sir! I have Mr. Allan Roscoe's word for it." + +"It appears to me," said Hector, undauntedly, "that your nephew is at +least as quarrelsome as I am. He forced the fight upon me." + +"Probably you will not be in a hurry to attack him again," said +Socrates, under the impression that Hector had got the worst of it. + +Some of the boys smiled, but Socrates did not see it. + +"As you have probably received a lesson, I will not punish you as I had +anticipated. I will sentence you, however, to commit to memory the first +fifty lines of Virgil's 'AEneid.' Mr. Crabb, will you see that Roscoe +performs his penance?" + +"Yes, sir," said Crabb, faintly. + +"Is your nephew also to perform a penance?" asked Hector, undaunted. + +"Silence, sir! What right have you to question me on this subject?" + +"Because, sir, he is more to blame than I." + +"I don't know that. I am not at all sure that your story is correct." + +Mr. Crabb, meek as he was, was indignant at this flagrant partiality. + +"Mr. Smith," he said, "I happen to know that Roscoe's story is strictly +correct, and that your nephew made an unprovoked attack upon him." + +Hector looked grateful, and Jim Smith furious. + +"Mr. Crabb," said Socrates, angrily, "I did not ask your opinion. So far +as my nephew is concerned, I will deal with him privately. Boys, you may +begin your studies." + +All the boys understood that Jim was to be let off, and they thought it +a shame. But Mr. Crabb took care to make Hector's penance as light as +possible. + +And thus passed the first day at Smith Institute. + + + + +CHAPTER XV. THE USHER CONFIDES IN HECTOR. + + + +Mr. Crabb acted rashly in siding with Hector, and speaking against Mr. +Smith's nephew. Socrates showed his displeasure by a frigid demeanor, +and by seeking occasions for snubbing his assistant. On the other hand, +Hector felt grateful for his intercession, and an intimacy sprang up +between them. + +A few days afterward, on a half holiday, Mr. Crabb said: "Roscoe, I am +going out for a walk. Do you care to accompany me?" + +"I will do so with pleasure," said Hector, sincerely. + +"Mr. Crabb," he said, after they were fairly on their way, "I am sorry +to see that Mr. Smith has not forgiven you for taking my part against +Jim." + +"I would do it again, Roscoe," said the usher. "I could not sit silent +while so great an injustice was being done." + +"Do you think Jim was punished?" + +"I am sure he was not. He is a boy after Mr. Smith's own heart, that +is, he possesses the same mean and disagreeable qualities, perhaps in a +greater degree. Has he interfered with you since?" + +"No," answered Hector, smiling; "he probably found that I object to +being bullied." + +"You are fortunate in being strong enough to withstand his attacks." + +"Yes," said Hector, quietly; "I am not afraid of him." + +"Bullies are generally cowards," said the usher. + +"I wonder, Mr. Crabb, you are willing to stay at Smith Institute, as +usher to such a man as Mr. Smith." + +"Ah, Roscoe!" said Mr. Crabb, sighing; "it is not of my own free will +that I stay. Poverty is a hard task-master. I must teach for a living." + +"But surely you could get a better position?" + +"Perhaps so; but how could I live while I was seeking for it. My lad," +he said, after a pause, "I have a great mind to confide in you; I want +one friend to whom I can talk unreservedly." + +"Mr. Crabb," said Hector, earnestly, "I shall feel flattered by your +confidence." + +"Thank you, Roscoe; or, rather, since we are going to be friends, let me +distinguish you from the other boys and call you Hector." + +"I wish you would, sir." + +"I need not tell you that I am poor," continued Mr. Crabb; "you can read +it in my shabby clothes. I sometimes see the boys looking at my poor +suit, as if they wondered why I dressed so badly. Smith has more than +once cast insulting looks at my rusty coat. It is not penuriousness, as +some of the boys may think--it is poverty that prevents me from attiring +myself more becomingly." + +"Mr. Crabb, I sympathize with you," said Hector. + +"Thank you, Hector. Of that I am sure." + +"Mr. Smith ought to pay you enough to clothe yourself neatly. He makes +you work hard enough." + +"He pays me twenty dollars a month," said the usher; "twenty dollars and +my board." + +"Is that all?" asked Hector, in amazement. "Why, the girl in the kitchen +earns nearly that." + +"To be sure," answered the usher, bitterly; "but in Mr. Smith's +estimation, I stand very little higher. He does not value education, not +possessing it himself. However, you may wonder why, even with this +sum, I cannot dress better. It is because I have another than myself to +support." + +"You are not married?" asked Hector, in surprise. + +"No; but I have an invalid sister, who is wholly dependent upon me. To +her I devote three-quarters of my salary, and this leaves me very little +for myself. My poor sister is quite unable to earn anything for herself, +so it is a matter of necessity." + +"Yes, I understand," said Hector, in a tone of sympathy. + +"You now see why I do not dare to leave this position, poor as it is. +For myself, I might take the risk, but I should not feel justified in +exposing my sister to the hazard of possible want." + +"You are right, Mr. Crabb. I am very sorry now that you spoke up for me. +It has prejudiced Mr. Smith against you." + +"No, no; I won't regret that. Indeed, he would hesitate to turn me +adrift, for he would not be sure of getting another teacher to take my +place for the same beggarly salary." + +"Something may turn up for you yet, Mr. Crabb," said Hector, hopefully. + +"Perhaps so," answered the usher, but his tone was far from sanguine. + +When they returned to the school, Hector carried out a plan which had +suggested itself to him in the interest of Mr. Crabb. He wrote to a boy +of his acquaintance, living in New York, who, he had heard, was in want +of a private tutor, and recommended Mr. Crabb, in strong terms, for that +position. He did this sincerely, for he had found the usher to be a good +teacher, and well versed in the studies preparatory to college. He did +not think it best to mention this to Mr. Crabb, for the answer might be +unfavorable, and then his hopes would have been raised only to be dashed +to the earth. + +Later in the day, Hector fell in with Bates, already referred to as a +special friend of Jim Smith. The intimacy, however, had been diminished +since the contest in which Hector gained the victory. Bates was not +quite so subservient to the fallen champion, and Jim resented it. + +"I saw you walking out with old Crabb," said Bates. + +"He isn't particularly old," said Hector. + +"Oh, you know what I mean. Did you ever see such a scarecrow?" + +"Do you refer to his dress?" asked Hector. + +"Yes; he'll soon be in rags. I shouldn't wonder at all if that old suit +of his was worn by one of Noah's sons in the ark." + +"You don't suppose he wears it from choice, do you?" + +"I don't know. He's stingy, I suppose--afraid to spend a cent." + +"You are mistaken. He has a sister to support, and his salary is very +small." + +"I can believe that. Old Sock is mean with his teachers. How much does +he pay Crabb?" + +"It is very little, but I don't know that I ought to tell." + +"I say, though, Roscoe, I wouldn't go to walk with him again." + +"Why not?" + +"The boys will say that, you are trying to get into his good graces, so +he'll let you off easy in your lessons." + +"I don't want him to let me off easy; I generally intend to be +prepared." + +"I know, but that's what they will say." + +"Let them say what they please, and I will do what I please," said +Hector, independently. + +"Old Sock ain't any too fond of Crabb since he took your part the other +day. Jim says the old man means to bounce him before long." + +"I suppose that means discharge him." + +"It means giving him his walking papers. Jim will see that he does it, +too." + +Hector did not reply, but he felt more than ever glad that he had +written a letter which might possibly bring the poor usher more +profitable and, at the same time, agreeable employment. + +"Jim doesn't like you, either," added Bates. + +"I never supposed he did. I can do without his favor." + +"He will get you into a scrape if he can." + +"I have no doubt whatever of his benevolent intentions toward me. I +shall not let it interfere with my happiness." + +Just then a sharp cry was heard, as of a boy in pain. It came from the +school yard, which the two boys were approaching on their return from a +walk. + +"What's that?" asked Hector, quickly. + +"I expect it's the new boy." + +One had arrived the day before. + +"Is he hurt, I wonder?" asked Hector, quickening his steps. + +"Jim's got hold of him, probably," said Bates; "he said this morning +he was going to give the little chap a lesson to break him into school +ways." + +"He did, did he?" said Hector, compressing his lips. "I shall have +something to say to that," and he quickened his steps. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. TOSSED IN A BLANKET. + + + +The last new boy was a little fellow only eleven years old. His name was +Tommy Cooper, as he was called at home. It was his first absence from +the sheltering care of his mother, and he felt lonesome in the great, +dreary school building, where he was called "Cooper," and "you little +chap." He missed the atmosphere of home, and the tenderness of his +mother and sister. In fact, the poor boy was suffering from that most +distressing malady, homesickness. + +Had Mrs. Socrates Smith been a kind, motherly woman, she might have done +much to reconcile the boy to his new home; but she was a tall, gaunt, +bony woman, more masculine than feminine, not unlike Miss Sally Brass, +whom all readers of Dickens will remember. + +I am sorry to say that a homesick boy in a boarding school does not meet +with much sympathy. Even those boys who have once experienced the same +malady are half ashamed of it, and, if they remember it at all, remember +it as a mark of weakness. There was but one boy who made friendly +approaches to Tommy, and this was Hector Roscoe. + +Hector had seen the little fellow sitting by himself with a sad face, +and he had gone up to him, and asked him in a pleasant tone some +questions about himself and his home. + +"So you have never been away from home before, Tommy," he said. + +"No, sir," answered the boy, timidly. + +"Don't call me sir. I am only a boy like you. Call me Hector." + +"That is a strange name. I never heard it before." + +"No, it is not a common name. I suppose you don't like school very +much?" + +"I never shall be happy here," sighed Tommy. + +"You think so now, but you will get used to it." + +"I don't think I shall." + +"Oh, yes, you will. It will never seem like home, of course, but you +will get acquainted with some of the boys, and will join in their games, +and then time will pass more pleasantly." + +"I think the boys are very rough," said the little boy. + +"Yes, they are rough, but they don't mean unkindly. Some of them were +homesick when they came here, just like you." + +"Were you homesick?" asked Tommy, looking up, with interest. + +"I didn't like the school very well; but I was much older than you when +I came here, and, besides, I didn't leave behind me so pleasant a home. +I am not so rich as you, Tommy. I have no father nor mother," and for +the moment Hector, too, looked sad. + +The little fellow became more cheerful under the influence of Hector's +kind and sympathetic words. Our hero, however, was catechised about his +sudden intimacy with the new scholar. + +"I see you've got a new situation, Roscoe," said Bates, when Hector was +walking away. + +"What do you mean?" + +"You've secured the position of nurse to that little cry baby." + +"You mean Tommy Cooper?" + +"Yes, if that's his name." + +"I was cheering up the little fellow a bit. He's made rather a bad +exchange in leaving a happy home for Smith Institute." + +"That's so. This is a dreary hole, but there's no need of crying about +it." + +"You might if you were as young as Tommy, and had just come." + +"Shall you take him under your wing?" + +"Yes, if he needs it." + +We now come to the few minutes preceding the return of Hector from his +walk, as indicated in the last chapter. + +Tommy Cooper was sitting in the school yard, with a disconsolate look, +when Jim Smith, who was never happier than when he was bullying other +boys, espied him. + +"What's the matter with you, young one?" he said, roughly, "Is your +grandmother dead?" + +"No," answered Tommy, briefly. + +"Come here and play." + +"I would rather not." + +"I am not going to have you sulking round here. Do you hear me?" + +"Are you one of the teachers?" asked Tommy, innocently. + +"You'll find out who I am," answered Jim, roughly. "Here, Palmer, do you +want a little fun with this young one?" + +Palmer and Bates were Jim Smith's most devoted adherents. + +"What are you going to do, Jim?" questioned Palmer. + +"I'm going to stir him up a little," said Jim, with a malicious smile. +"Go and get a blanket." + +"All right!" said Palmer. + +"We'll toss him in a blanket. He won't look so sulky after we get +through with him." + +There were two or three other boys standing by, who heard these words. + +"It's a shame!" said one, in a low voice. "See the poor little chap, how +sad he looks! I felt just as he does when I first came to school." + +"Jim ought not to do it," said the second. "It's a mean thing to do." + +"Tell him so." + +"No, thank you. He'd treat me the same way." + +The two speakers were among the smaller boys, neither being over +fourteen, and though they sympathized with Tommy, their sympathy was not +likely to do him any good. + +Out came Palmer with the blanket. + +"Are there any teachers about?" asked Jim. + +"No." + +"That's good. We shan't be interfered with. Here, young one, come here." + +"What for?" asked Tommy, looking frightened. + +"Come here, and you'll find out." + +But Tommy had already guessed. He had read a story of English school +life, in which a boy had been tossed in a blanket, and he was not slow +in comprehending the situation. + +"Oh, don't toss me in a blanket!" said the poor boy, clasping his hands. + +"Sorry to disturb you, but it's got to be done, young one," said Jim. +"Here, jump in. It'll do you good." + +"Oh, don't!" sobbed the poor boy. "It'll hurt me." + +"No, it won't! Don't be a cry baby. We'll make a man of you." + +But Tommy was not persuaded. He jumped up, and tried to make his escape. +But, of course, there was no chance for him. Jim Smith overtook him in a +couple of strides, and seizing him roughly by the collar, dragged him +to the blanket, which by this time Palmer and one of the other boys, who +had been impressed into the service reluctantly, were holding. + +Jim Smith, taking up Tommy bodily, threw him into the blanket, and then +seizing one end, gave it a violent toss. Up went the boy into the air, +and tumbling back again into the blanket was raised again. + +"Raise him, boys!" shouted Jim. "Give him a hoist!" + +Then it was that Tommy screamed, and Hector heard his cry for help. + +He came rushing round the corner of the building, and comprehended, at a +glance, what was going on. + +Naturally his hot indignation was much stirred. + +"For shame, you brutes!" he cried. "Stop that!" + +If there was anyone whom Jim Smith did not want to see at this moment, +it was Hector Roscoe. He would much rather have seen one of the ushers. +He saw that he was in a scrape, but his pride would not allow him to +back out. + +"Keep on, boys!" he cried. "It's none of Roscoe's business. He'd better +clear out, or we'll toss him." + +As he spoke he gave another toss. + +"Save me, Hector!" cried Tommy, espying his friend's arrival with joy. + +Hector was not the boy to let such an appeal go unheeded. He sprang +forward, dealt Jim Smith a powerful blow, that made him stagger, and let +go the blanket, and then helped Tommy to his feet. + +"Run into the house. Tommy!" he said. "There may be some rough work +here." + +He faced round just in time to fend off partially a blow from the angry +bully. + +"Take that for your impudence!" shouted Jim Smith. "I'll teach you to +meddle with, me." + +But Jim reckoned without his host. The blow was returned with interest, +and, in the heat of his indignation, Hector followed it up with such +a volley that the bully retreated in discomfiture, and was glad to +withdraw from the contest. + +"I'll pay you for this, you scoundrel!" he said, venomously. + +"Whenever you please, you big brute!" returned Hector, contemptuously. +"It is just like you to tease small boys. If you annoy Tommy Cooper +again, you'll hear from me." + +"I'd like to choke that fellow!" muttered Jim. "Either he or I will have +to leave this school." + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. JIM SMITH'S REVENGE. + + + +It would be natural to suppose that Jim Smith, relying upon his +influence with his uncle, would have reported this last "outrage," as he +chose to consider it, to the principal, thus securing the punishment of +Hector. But he was crafty, and considered that no punishment Hector was +likely to receive would satisfy him. Corporal punishment for taking the +part of an ill-used boy, Hector was probably too spirited to submit to, +and, under these circumstances, it would hardly have been inflicted. +Besides, Jim was aware that the offense for which Hector had attacked +him was not likely, if made known, to secure sympathy. Even his uncle +would be against him, for he was fond of money, and had no wish to lose +the new pupil, whose friends were well able to pay for him. + +No! He decided that what he wanted was to bring Hector into disgrace. +The method did not immediately occur to him, but after a while he saw +his way clear. + +His uncle's bedchamber was on the second floor, and Jim's directly over +it on the third story. Some of the other boys, including Hector, had +rooms also on the third floor. + +Jim was going upstairs one day when, through the door of his uncle's +chamber, which chanced to be open, he saw a wallet lying on the bureau. +On the impulse of the moment, he walked in on tiptoes, secured the +wallet, and slipped it hurriedly into his pocket. Then he made all haste +upstairs, and bolted himself into his own room. Two other boys slept +there, but both were downstairs in the playground. + +Jim took the wallet from his pocket and eagerly scanned the contents. +There were eight five-dollar bills and ten dollars in small bills, +besides a few papers, which may be accurately described as of no value +to anyone but the owner. + +The boy's face assumed a covetous look. He, as well as his uncle, was +fond of money--a taste which, unfortunately, as he regarded it, he was +unable to gratify. His family was poor, and he was received at half +price by Socrates Smith on the score of relationship, but his allowance +of pocket money was less than that of many of the small boys. He made +up the deficiency, in part, by compelling them to contribute to his +pleasures. If any boy purchased candy, or any other delicacy, Jim, if he +learned the fact, required him to give him a portion, just as the feudal +lords exacted tribute from their serfs and dependents. Still, this was +not wholly satisfactory, and Jim longed, instead, for a supply of money +to spend as he chose. + +So the thought came to him, as he scanned the contents of the wallet: +"Why shouldn't I take out one or two of these bills before disposing of +it? No one will lay it to me." + +The temptation proved too strong for Jim's power of resistance. He +selected a five-dollar bill and five dollars in small bills, and +reluctantly replaced the rest of the money in the wallet. + +"So far, so good!" he thought. "That's a good idea." + +Then, unlocking the door, he passed along the entry till he came to the +room occupied by Hector. As he or one of the two boys who roomed with +him might be in the room, he looked first through the keyhole. + +"The coast is clear!" he said to himself, in a tone of satisfaction. + +Still, he opened the door cautiously, and stepped with catlike tread +into the room. Then he looked about the room. Hanging on nails were +several garments belonging to the inmates of the room. Jim selected a +pair of pants which he knew belonged to Hector, and hurrying forward, +thrust the wallet into one of the side pockets. Then, with a look of +satisfaction, he left the room, shutting the door carefully behind him. + +"There," he said to himself, with exultation. "That'll fix him! Perhaps +he'll wish he hadn't put on quite so many airs." + +He was rather annoyed, as he walked along the corridor, back to his +own room, to encounter Wilkins. He had artfully chosen a time when he +thought all the boys would be out, and he heartily wished that some +untoward chance had not brought Wilkins in. + +"Where are you going, Jim?" asked Wilkins. + +"I went to Bates' room, thinking he might be in, but he wasn't." + +"Do you want him? I left him out on the playground." + +"Oh, it's no matter! It'll keep!" said Jim, indifferently. + +"I got out of that pretty well!" he reflected complacently. + +Perhaps Jim Smith would not have felt quite so complacent, if he had +known that at the time he entered Hector's room it was occupied, though +he could not see the occupant. It so chanced that Ben Platt, one of +Hector's roommates, was in the closet, concealed from the view of anyone +entering the room, yet so placed that he could see through the partially +open door what wras passing in the room. + +When he saw Jim Smith enter he was surprised, for he knew that that +young man was not on visiting terms with the boy who had discomfited and +humiliated him. + +"What on earth can Jim want?" he asked himself. + +He did not have long to wait for an answer though not a real one; but +actions, as men have often heard, speak louder than words. + +When he saw Jim steal up to Hector's pants, and producing a wallet, +hastily thrust it into one of the pockets, he could hardly believe the +testimony of his eyes. + +"Well!" he ejaculated, inwardly, "I would not have believed it if I +hadn't seen it. I knew Jim was a bully and a tyrant, but I didn't think +he was as contemptible as all that." + +The wallet he recognized at once, for he had more than once seen +Socrates take it out of his pocket. + +"It's old Sock's wallet!" he said to himself. "It's clear that Jim has +taken it, and means to have it found in Roscoe's possession. That's as +mean a trick as I ever heard of." + +Just then Wilkins entered the room. Wilkins and Ben Platt were Hector's +two roommates. + +"Hello, Wilkins! I'm glad you've come just as you have." + +"What for, Platt? Do you want to borrow some money?" + +"No; there is more money in this room now than there has been for a long +time." + +"What do you mean? The governor hasn't sent you a remittance, has he?" + +"No." + +"Expound your meaning, then, most learned and mysterious chum." + +"I will. Within five minutes Jim Smith has been here and left a wallet +of money." + +"Jim been here? I met him in the corridor." + +"I warrant he didn't say he had been here." + +"No; he said he had been to Bates' room, but didn't find him there." + +"That's all gammon! Wilkins, what will you say when I tell you that old +Sock's wallet is in this very room!" + +"I won't believe it!" + +"Look here, then!" + +As he spoke, Ben went to Hector's pants and drew out the wallet. + +Wilkins started in surprise and dismay. + +"How did Roscoe come by that?" he asked; "surely he didn't take it?" + +"Of course he didn't. You might know Roscoe better. Didn't you hear me +say just now that Jim brought it here?" + +"And put it in Roscoe's pocket?" + +"Yes." + +"In your presence?" + +"Yes; only he didn't know that I was present," said Platt. + +"Where were you?" + +"In the closet. The door was partly open, and I saw everything." + +"What does it all mean?" + +"Can't you see? It's Jim's way of coming up with Roscoe. You know he +threatened that he'd fix him." + +"All I can say is, that it's a very mean way," said Wilkins in disgust. + +He was not a model boy--far from it, indeed!--but he had a sentiment of +honor that made him dislike and denounce a conspiracy like this. + +"It's a dirty trick," he said, warmly. + +"I agree with you on that point." "What shall we do about it?" + +"Lay low, and wait till the whole thing comes out. When Sock discovers +his loss, Jim will be on hand to tell him where his wallet is. Then we +can up and tell all we know." + +"Good! There's a jolly row coming!" said Wilkins, smacking his lips. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. THE MISSING WALLET IS FOUND. + + + +Socrates Smith was, ordinarily, so careful of his money, that it was a +very remarkable inadvertence to leave it on the bureau. Nor was it long +before he ascertained his loss. He was sitting at his desk when his +wife looked in at the door, and called for a small sum for some domestic +expenditure. + +With an ill grace--for Socrates hated to part with his money--he put his +hand into the pocket where he usually kept his wallet. + +"Really, Mrs. Smith," he was saying, "it seems to me you are always +wanting money--why, bless my soul!" and such an expression of +consternation and dismay swept over his face, that his wife hurriedly +inquired: + +"What is the matter, Mr. Smith?" + +"Matter enough!" he gasped. "My wallet is gone!" + +"Gone!" echoed his wife, in alarm. "Where can you have left it?" + +Mr. Smith pressed his hand to his head in painful reflection. + +"How much money was there in it, Socrates?" asked his wife. + +"Between forty and fifty dollars!" groaned Mr. Smith. "If I don't find +it, Sophronia, I am a ruined man!" + +This was, of course, an exaggeration, but it showed the poignancy of the +loser's regret. + +"Can't you think where you left it?" + +Suddenly Mr. Smith's face lighted up. + +"I remember where I left it, now," he said; "I was up in the chamber an +hour since, and, while changing my coat, took out my wallet, and laid it +on the bureau. I'll go right up and look for it." + +"Do, Socrates." + +Mr. Smith bounded up the staircase with the agility of a man of half +his years, and hopefully opened the door of his chamber, which Jim had +carefully closed after him. His first glance was directed at the bureau, +but despair again settled down sadly upon his heart when he saw that it +was bare. There was no trace of the missing wallet. + +"It may have fallen on the carpet," said Socrates, hope reviving +faintly. + +There was not a square inch of the cheap Kidderminster carpet that he +did not scan earnestly, greedily, but, alas! the wallet, if it had ever +been there, had mysteriously taken to itself locomotive powers, and +wandered away into the realm of the unknown and the inaccessible. + +Yet, searching in the chambers of his memory, Mr. Smith felt sure that +he had left the wallet on the bureau. He could recall the exact moment +when he laid it down, and he recollected that he had not taken it again. + +"Some one has taken it!" he decided; and wrath arose in his heart, He +snapped his teeth together in stern anger, as he determined that +he would ferret out the miserable thief, and subject him to condign +punishment. + +Mrs. Smith, tired of waiting for the appearance of her husband, ascended +the stairs and entered his presence. + +"Well?" she said. + +"I haven't found it," answered Socrates, tragically. "Mrs. Smith, the +wallet has been stolen!" + +"Are you sure that you left it here?" asked his wife. + +"Sure!" he repeated, in a hollow tone. "I am as sure as that the sun +rose to-morrow--I mean yesterday." + +"Was the door open?" + +"No; but that signifies nothing. It wasn't locked, and anyone could +enter." + +"Is it possible that we have a thief in the institute?" said Mrs. Smith, +nervously. "Socrates, I shan't sleep nights. Think of the spoons!" + +"They're only plated." + +"And my earrings." + +"You could live without earrings. Think, rather, of the wallet, with +nearly fifty dollars in bills." + +"Who do you think took it, Socrates?" + +"I have no idea; but I will find out. Yes, I will find out. Come +downstairs, Mrs. Smith; we will institute inquiries." + +When Mr. Smith had descended to the lower floor, and was about entering +the office, it chanced that his nephew was just entering the house. + +"What's the matter, Uncle Socrates?" he asked; "you look troubled." + +"And a good reason why, James; I have met with a loss." + +"You don't say so!" exclaimed Jim, in innocent wonder; "what is it?" + +"A wallet, with a large amount of money in it!" + +"Perhaps there is a hole in your pocket," suggested Jim. + +"A hole--large enough for my big wallet to fall through! Don't be such a +fool!" + +"Excuse me, uncle," said Jim, meekly; "of course that is impossible. +When do you remember having it last?" + +Of course Socrates told the story, now familiar to us, and already +familiar to his nephew, though he did not suspect that. + +Jim struck his forehead, as if a sudden thought had occurred to him. + +"Could it be?" he said, slowly, as if to himself; "no, I can't believe +it." + +"Can't believe what?" demanded Socrates, impatiently; "if you have any +clew, out with it!" + +"I hardly like to tell, Uncle Socrates, for it implicates one of the +boys." + +"Which?" asked Mr. Smith, eagerly. + +"I will tell you, though I don't like to. Half an hour since, I was +coming upstairs, when I heard a door close, as I thought, and, directly +afterward, saw Hector Roscoe hurrying up the stairs to the third floor. +I was going up there myself, and followed him. Five minutes later +he came out of his room, looking nervous and excited. I didn't think +anything of it at the time, but I now think that he entered your room, +took the wallet, and then carried it up to his own chamber and secreted +it." + +"Hector Roscoe!" repeated Mr. Smith, in amazement. "I wouldn't have +supposed that he was a thief." + +"Nor I; and perhaps he isn't. It might be well, however, to search his +room." + +"I will!" answered Socrates, with eagerness, "Come up, James, and you, +Mrs. Smith, come up, too!" + +The trio went upstairs, and entered poor Hector's room. It was not +unoccupied, for Ben Platt and Wilkins were there. They anticipated a +visit, and awaited it with curious interest. They rose to their feet +when the distinguished visitors arrived. + +"Business of importance brings us here," said Socrates. "Platt and +Wilkins, you may leave the room." + +The boys exchanged glances, and obeyed. + +"Wilkins," said Ben, when they were in the corridor, "it is just as I +thought. Jim has set a trap for Roscoe." + +"He may get caught himself," said Wilkins. "I ain't oversqueamish, but +that is too confounded mean! Of course you'll tell all you know?" + +"Yes; and I fancy it will rather surprise Mr. Jim. I wish they had let +us stay in there." + +Meanwhile, Jim skillfully directed the search. + +"He may have put it under the mattress," suggested Jim. + +Socrates darted to the bed, and lifted up the mattress, but no wallet +revealed itself to his searching eyes. + +"No; it is not here!" he said, in a tone of disappointment; "the boy may +have it about him. I will send for him." + +"Wait a moment, Uncle Socrates," said Jim; "there is a pair of pants +which I recognize as his." + +Mr. Smith immediately thrust his hand into one of the pockets and drew +out the wallet! + +"Here it is!" he exclaimed, joyfully. "Here it is!" + +"Then Roscoe is a thief! I wouldn't have thought it!" said Jim. + +"Nor I. I thought the boy was of too good family to stoop to such a +thing. But now I remember, Mr. Allan Roscoe told me he was only adopted +by his brother. He is, perhaps, the son of a criminal." + +"Very likely!" answered Jim, who was glad to believe anything derogatory +to Hector. + +"What are you going to do about it, uncle?" + +"I shall bring the matter before the school. I will disgrace the boy +publicly," answered Socrates Smith, sternly. "He deserves the exposure." + +"Aha, Master Roscoe!" said Jim, gleefully, to himself; "I rather think I +shall get even with you, and that very soon." + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. A DRAMATIC SCENE. + + + +It was generally after vespers that Mr. Smith communicated to the school +anything which he desired to call to their attention. This was to be the +occasion of bringing our hero into disgrace. + +The boys assembled, most of them quite ignorant that anything +exceptional was to occur. Hector himself, the person chiefly interested, +was entirely unconscious that he was to be made "a shining mark" for +the arrows of suspicion and obloquy. If he had noticed the peculiar and +triumphantly malicious looks with which Jim Smith, the bully and tyrant, +whom he had humiliated and deposed, regarded him, he might have been led +to infer that some misfortune was in store for him. But these looks he +did not chance to notice. + +There were two other boys, however, who did notice them. These were Ben +Platt and Wil-kins, who had very good reasons, as we know, for doing so. + +"I believe old Sock is going to pitch into Roscoe at vespers," said Ben, +in a whisper, to his roommate. + +"So do I. There's a look about him like that of a tiger about to pounce +on his prey." + +"Or a cat with murderous designs on a mouse." + +"We must expose the whole thing." + +"Of course." + +"Won't Jim be mad?" + +"Let him! He won't dare to thrash us while Roscoe is round." + +There was, indeed, about Socrates Smith an air of mystery, portentous +and suggestive. He looked like one meditating a coup d'etat, or, +perhaps, it might better be said, a coup de main, as the hand is with +schoolmasters, generally, the instrument of attack. + +When the proper time arrived, Mr. Smith cleared his throat, as he always +did before beginning to speak. + +"Boys," he said, "I have an important, and I may say, a painful, +communication to make to you." + +All the boys looked at each other in curiosity, except the three who +were already in the secret. + +"You know, boys," continued Socrates, "how proud I am of this institute, +how zealous I am for its good reputation, how unwearied I am in my +efforts for your progress and welfare." + +Mr. Smith's unwearied efforts were largely in the line of making out and +receipting bills for tuition, and it may be said that this was to him by +far the most agreeable of the duties he undertook to perform. + +"I have been proud of my pupils," continued the principal, "and it has +given me pleasure to reflect that you all reflected credit, more or +less, upon my teaching. I have, also, sought to form your manners, to +train you to fill the positions which Providence may have in store for +you. In a word, while from time to time you may have indulged in little +escapades, slightly-culpable, I have felt that you were all gentlemen." + +"What in the world does he mean?" thought more than one puzzled boy. +"What is all this leading to?" + +Among those to whom this thought occurred, was Hector Roscoe, who was +very far from conjecturing that all this long preamble was to introduce +an attack upon him. + +"But," proceeded Socrates, after a pause, "I have this afternoon been +painfully undeceived. I have learned, with inexpressible pain, that +Smith Institute has received an ineffaceable stigma." + +"Old Sock is getting eloquent!" whispered Ben Platt. + +"I have learned," continued Socrates, with tragic intensity, "that I +have nourished a viper in my bosom! I have learned that we have a thief +among us!" + +This declaration was greeted with a buzz of astonishment. Each boy +looked at his next door neighbor as if to inquire, "Is it you?" + +Each one, except the three who were behind the scenes. Of these, Jim +Smith, with an air of supreme satisfaction, looked in a sidelong way at +Hector, unconscious the while that two pairs of eyes--those of Wilkins +and Ben Platt--were fixed upon him. + +"I thought you would be surprised," said the principal, "except, of +course, the miserable criminal. But I will not keep you in suspense. +To-day, by inadvertence, I left my wallet, containing a considerable +sum of money, on the bureau in my chamber. An hour later, discovering +my loss, I went upstairs, but the wallet was gone. It had mysteriously +disappeared. I was at a loss to understand this at first, but I soon +found a clew. I ascertained that a boy--a boy who is presently one of +the pupils of Smith Institute--had entered my chamber, had appropriated +the wallet, had carried it to his dormitory, and there had slyly +concealed it in the pocket of a pair of pants. Doubtless, he thought his +theft would not be discovered, but it was, and I myself discovered the +missing wallet in its place of concealment." + +Here Mr. Smith paused, and it is needless to say that the schoolroom +was a scene of great excitement. His tone was so impressive, and +his statement so detailed, that no one could doubt that he had most +convincing evidence of the absolute accuracy of what he said. + +"Who was it?" every boy had it on his lips to inquire. + +"Three hours have elapsed since my discovery," continued Mr. Smith. +"During that time I have felt unnerved. I have, however, written and +posted an account of this terrible discovery to the friends of the pupil +who has so disgraced himself and the school." + +Ben Platt and Wilkins exchanged glances of indignation. They felt that +Mr. Smith had been guilty of a piece of outrageous injustice in acting +thus before he had apprised the supposed offender of the charge against +him, and heard his defense. Both boys decided that they would not spare +Jim Smith, but at all hazards expose the contemptible plot which he had +contrived against his schoolfellow. + +"I waited, however, till I was somewhat more calm before laying the +matter before you. I know you will all be anxious to know the name of +the boy who has brought disgrace upon the school to which you belong, +and I am prepared to reveal it to you. Hector Roscoe, stand up!" + +If a flash of lightning had struck him where he sat, Hector could not +have been more astonished. For a moment he was struck dumb, and did not +move. + +"Stand up, Hector Roscoe!" repeated the principal. "No wonder you sit +there as if paralyzed. You did not expect that so soon your sin would +find you out." + +Then Hector recovered completely his self-possession. He sprang to his +feet, and not only that, but he strode forward, blazing with passion, +till he stood before Mr. Smith's desk and confronted him. + +"Mr. Smith!" he said, in a ringing tone, "do I understand you to charge +me with stealing a wallet of yours containing money?" + +"I do so charge you, and I have complete evidence of the truth of my +charge. What have you to say?" + +"What have I to say?" repeated Hector, looking around him proudly and +scornfully. "I have to say that it is an infamous lie!" + +"Hold, sir!" exclaimed Socrates, angrily. "Shameless boy, do you intend +to brazen it out? Did I not tell you that I had complete proof of the +truth of the charge?" + +"I don't care what fancied proof you have. I denounce the charge as a +lie." + +"That won't do, sir! I myself took the wallet from the pocket of your +pantaloons, hanging in the chamber. Mrs. Smith was with me and witnessed +my discovery, and there was another present, one of the pupils of this +institute, who also can testify to the fact. It is useless for you to +deny it!" + +"You found the wallet in the pocket of my pantaloons?" asked Hector, +slowly. + +"Yes. There can be no doubt about that." + +"Who put it there?" demanded Hector, quickly. + +Socrates Smith was staggered, for he had not expected this query from +the accused. + +"Who put it there?" he repeated. + +"Yes, sir," continued Hector, firmly. "If the matter is as you state it, +some one has been mean enough to put the wallet into my pocket in order +to implicate me in a theft." + +"Of course you put it there yourself, Roscoe. Your defense is very +lame." + +Hector turned round to his fellow-scholars. + +"Boys," he said, "you have heard the charge that has been made against +me. You know me pretty well by this time. Is there any one of you that +believes it to be true?" + +"No! No!" shouted the boys, with one exception. Jim Smith was heard to +say distinctly, "I believe it!" + +"Silence in the school!" shouted Socrates. "This is altogether +irregular, and I won't have it." + +Hector turned to the principal, and said, calmly: + +"You see, Mr. Smith, that, in spite of your proof, these boys will not +believe that your charge is well founded." + +"That is neither here nor there, Roscoe. Will anyone step up and prove +your innocence?" + +There was another sensation. In the second row back a boy was seen to +rise. + +"Mr. Smith," said Ben Platt, "I can prove Roscoe's innocence!" + + + + +CHAPTER XX. HECTOR GAINS A VICTORY. + + + +There were two persons on whom Ben Platt's declaration made a profound +impression. These were Jim Smith and his uncle, the learned Socrates. +The latter was surprised, for he was fully persuaded that the charge +he had made was a true one, and Hector was a thief. As for Jim, his +surprise was of a very disagreeable nature. Knowing as he did that, he +himself had taken the money, he was alarmed lest his offense was to +be made known, and that the pit which he had digged for another should +prove to be provided for himself. + +Socrates was the first to speak after taking time to recover himself +from his surprise. + +"This is a very extraordinary statement, Platt," he said. "You say you +can prove Roscoe's innocence?" + +"Yes, sir," answered Platt, firmly. + +"I wish no trifling here, sir," said the principal, sharply. "I myself +found the wallet in Roscoe's pocket." + +"Yes, sir," answered Ben Platt, "I know it was there." + +"You knew it was there!" repeated Socrates. "How did you know it was +there?" + +"Because I saw it put in." + +Here Jim Smith's face turned from red to pale, and he moved about +uneasily in his seat. "Could Ben Platt have been hidden somewhere in the +room?" he asked himself, "If so, what was he to do?" There was but one +answer to this question. He must brazen it out, and boldly contradict +the witness. But he would bide his time. He would wait to hear what Ben +had to say. + +"Did you put it in yourself?" asked Socrates, savagely. + +"No, Mr. Smith, I didn't put it in," answered Ben, indignantly. + +"None of your impudence, sir!" said the schoolmaster, irritated. + +"I merely answered your question and defended myself," answered Ben. + +There was a little murmur among the pupils, showing that their sympathy +was with the boy who had been so causelessly accused by the principal. + +"Silence!" exclaimed Socrates, annoyed. "Now," he continued, turning +to Ben, "since you know who put the wallet into Roscoe's pocket--a very +remarkable statement, by the way--will you deign to inform me who did +it?" + +"James Smith did it!" said Ben, looking over to the principal's nephew, +who was half expecting such an attack. + +"It's a base lie!" cried Jim, but his face was blanched, his manner was +nervous and confused, and he looked guilty, if he were not so. + +"My nephew?" asked Socrates, flurried. + +"Yes, sir." + +"It isn't so, Uncle Socrates," said Jim, excited. "I'll lick you, Ben +Platt, when we get out of school." + +"You forget yourself, James," said Socrates, with a mildness he would +not have employed with any other pupil. + +"I beg your pardon, Uncle Socrates," said Jim, with contrition, "but I +can't be silent when I am accused of things I don't do." + +"To be sure, you have some excuse, but you should remember the respect +you owe to me. Then you did not do it?" + +"Certainly not, sir." + +"So it appears, Platt, that you have brought a false charge against +your fellow-pupil," said Mr. Smith, severely. "I can conceive of nothing +meaner." + +"Mr. Smith," said Hector, "what right have you to say that the charge is +false? Is it the denial of your nephew? If he took the wallet he would, +of course, deny it." + +"So would you!" retorted Socrates. + +"No one saw me conceal it," said Hector, significantly. + +Then Wilkins rose. + +"Mr. Smith," he said, "I have some evidence to offer." + +"Out with it, sir," said the principal, angrily, for he was fighting +against an inward conviction that his nephew was really the guilty +party. + +"I was walking along the corridor about the time Platt speaks of Smith's +visit to Roscoe's room, and I met your nephew walking in the opposite +direction. When I entered the room, Platt told me that, half-concealed +by the closet door, he had seen Jim Smith enter and thrust the wallet +into Roscoe's pocket. Soon after, you and Mrs. Smith came into the +room, guided by your nephew, who let you know just where the wallet was +hidden. He had very good reasons for knowing," added Wilkins. + +If a look would have annihilated Wilkins, the look directed towards him +by Jim Smith would have had that effect. + +"It's a conspiracy against me, Uncle Socrates," said Jim, intent upon +brazening it out. "They're all in league together." + +"The testimony of Wilkins doesn't amount to much!" said Mr. Smith. "He +may have seen James in the corridor, but that is by no means a part of +his complicity in this affair." + +"Just so!" said Jim, eagerly. + +"Ben Platt's evidence ought to count for something," said Hector. "He +saw your nephew putting the wallet into the pocket of my pants." + +Socrates was clearly perplexed. In spite of his partiality for his +nephew, the case against him certainly looked very strong. + +Hector, however, determined to make his defense even stronger. + +"I would like to ask Platt," he said, "at what time this took place?" + +"At three o'clock." + +"How do you know it was three?" asked the principal, sharply. + +"Because I heard the clock on the village church strike three." + +"I would like to ask another boy--Frank Lewis--if he heard the clock +strike three?" + +Lewis answered in the affirmative. + +"Where were you at the time?" + +"In the playground." + +"What were you doing?" + +"Playing ball." + +"Was I in the game?" + +"Yes." + +"How long had the game been going on?" + +"Half an hour." + +"How long had the game been going on, do you know?" + +"From half to three-quarters of an hour." + +"Can you remember whether I was with you all the time?" + +"You were." + +"Now, Platt, will you tell me how long after the wallet was put into my +pocket before Mr. Smith appeared in search of it?" + +"Not over half an hour." + +"I submit, then," said Hector, in a matter-of-fact manner, "that I was +absent in the playground during the entire time when it was found in +my room. I believe this is what lawyers call an alibi that I have, +fortunately, been able to prove." + +"You are a very smart lawyer!" sneered the principal. + +The boys were by this time so incensed at Mr. Smith's evident effort to +clear his nephew at the expense of Roscoe, that there was a very audible +hiss, in which at least half a dozen joined. + +"Is this rebellion?" asked Socrates, furiously. + +"No, sir," said Ben Platt, firmly. "We want justice done; that is all." + +"You shall have justice--all of you!" exclaimed Socrates, carried beyond +the limits of prudence. + +"I am glad to hear that, sir," said Hector. "If you do not at once +exonerate me from this charge, which you know to be false, and write to +my guardian retracting it, I will bring the matter before the nearest +magistrate." + +This was more than Socrates had bargained for. He saw that he had gone +too far, and was likely to wreck his prospects and those of the school. + +"I will look into the matter," he said, hurriedly, "and report to the +school hereafter. You may now apply yourselves to your studies." + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. THE USHER IS DISCHARGED. + + + +Among the boys of Smith Institute there was but one opinion on the +subject of the principal's wallet. All acquitted Roscoe of having any +part in the theft, and they were equally unanimous in the belief that +Jim Smith had contrived a mean plot against the boy whom he could not +conquer by fair means. There was a little informal consultation as +to how Jim should be treated. It was finally decided to "send him to +Coventry." + +As this phrase, which is well understood in English schools, may not be +so clear to my readers, I will explain that Jim was to be refused notice +by his schoolfellows, unless he should become aggressive, when he was to +be noticed in a manner far from agreeable. + +Jim could not help observing the cold looks of the boys, who but lately +were glad enough to receive notice from him, and he became very angry. +As to being ashamed of the exposure, he was not sensitive, nor did +he often have any feeling of that kind. Naturally vindictive, he +felt especially angry with the two boys, Ben Platt and Wilkins, whose +testimony had proved so uncomfortable for him. + +"I'll thrash those boys if I never thrash another," he said to himself. +"So they have turned against me, have they? They're only fit to black my +boots anyway. I'll give 'em a lesson." + +Platt and Wilkins were expecting an attack. They knew that Jim would +seize the opportunity of attacking them singly, and in the absence of +Hector, of whom he was afraid, and with good reason. They concerted +measures, accordingly, for defeating the common enemy. + +Jim was stalking about the next day, looking sullen and feeling ugly. +He could not help observing that whenever he approached a group of boys +they immediately scattered and walked away in various directions. This +naturally chafed him, for, having no intellectual resources, he found +solitude oppressive. Besides, he had been accustomed to the role of +boss, and where is a boss without followers? + +Tired of the schoolroom precincts, Jim went to walk. In a rustic lane, +much to his delight, he saw approaching him one of the boys who had so +seriously offended him. + +It was Ben Platt. + +Ben was sauntering along in idle mood when he came face to face with the +dethroned boss. + +"So it's you, Platt, is it?" said Jim, grimly. + +"I believe it is," answered Ben, coolly. + +"I've got a word or two to say to you," said Jim, significantly. + +"Say them quick," said Ben, "for I'm in a hurry." + +"I'm not," said Jim, in his old tone, "and it makes no difference +whether you are or not." + +"Indeed! you are as polite as usual," returned Ben. + +"Look here, you young whelp!" Jim broke forth, unable any longer to +restrain his wrath, "what, did you mean by lying about me last evening?" + +"I didn't lie about you," said Ben, boldly. + +"Yes, you did. What made you say you saw me put that wallet into +Roscoe's pocket?" + +"I can't think of any reason, unless because it was true," said Ben. + +"Even if it were, how dared you turn against me? First you play the spy, +and then informer. Paugh!" + +"I see you admit it," said Ben. "Well, if you want an answer I will give +you one. You laid a plot for Hector Roscoe--one of the meanest, dirtiest +plots I ever heard of, and I wasn't going to see you lie him into a +scrape while I could prevent it." + +"That's enough, Platt!" exclaimed Jim, furiously. "Now, do you know what +I am going to do?" + +"I don't feel particularly interested in the matter." + +"You will be, then. I am going to thrash you." + +"You wouldn't if Hector Roscoe were here," said Ben, not appearing to be +much frightened. + +"Well, he isn't here, though if he were it wouldn't make any difference. +I'll whip you so you can't stand." + +Ben's reply was to call "Wilkins!" + +From a clump of bushes, where he had lurked, unobserved hitherto, sprang +Wilkins, and joined his friend. + +"There are two of us, Smith!" said Ben Platt. + +"I can thrash you both," answered Jim, whose blood was up. + +Before the advent of Hector no two boys would have ventured to engage +Jim in combat, but his defeat by a boy considerably smaller had lost him +his prestige, and the boys had become more independent. He still fancied +himself a match for both, however, and the conflict began. But both of +his antagonists were in earnest, and Jim had a hard time. + +Now, it so happened that Mr. Crabb, the usher, was taking a solitary +walk, and had approached the scene of conflict unobserved by any of the +participants. He arrived at an opportune time. Jim had managed to draw +Wilkins away, and by a quick movement threw him. He was about to deal +his prostrate foe a savage kick, which might have hurt him seriously, +when the usher, quiet and peaceful as he was by nature, could restrain +himself no longer. He rushed up, seized him by the collar, dragged him +back and shook him with a strength he did not suppose he possessed, +saying: + +"Leave that boy alone, you brute!" + +Jim turned quickly, and was very much surprised when he saw the meek +usher, whom he had always despised, because he looked upon him as a Miss +Nancy. + +"So it's you, is it?" he said, with a wicked glance. + +"Yes, it is I," answered the usher, manfully; "come up just in time to +stop your brutality." + +"Is it any of your business?" demanded Jim, looking as if he would like +to thrash the usher. + +"I have made it my business. Platt and Wilkins, I advise you to join +me, and leave this fellow, who has so disgraced himself as to be beneath +your notice." + +"We will accompany you with pleasure, sir," said the boys. + +They regarded the usher with new respect for this display of courage, +for which they had not given him credit. + +"I'll fix you, Crabb," said Jim Smith, insolently, "and don't you forget +it!" + +Mr. Crabb did not deign to answer him. + +Jim Smith was as good as his word. + +An hour later Mr. Crabb was summoned to the presence of the principal. + +Socrates received him with marked coldness. + +"Mr. Crabb," he said, "I cannot conceal the amazement I feel at a +complaint which has just been made by my nephew." + +"Well, sir?" + +Mr. Crabb had nerved himself for the worst, and did not cower or show +signs of fear, as Socrates expected he would. + +"James tells me that you attacked him savagely this afternoon when he +was having a little sport with two of his schoolfellows." + +"Is that what he says, Mr. Smith?" + +"Yes, sir, and I require an explanation." + +"You shall have it. The sport in which your nephew was engaged was +attempting to thrash Wilkins. He had him down, and was about to deal him +a savage kick when I fortunately came up." + +"And joined in the fight," sneered Socrates. + +"Yes, if you choose to put it so. Would you have had me stand by, and +see Wilkins brutally used?" + +"Of course, you color the affair to suit yourself," said Socrates, +coldly. "The fact is that you, an usher, have lowered yourself by taking +part in a playful schoolboy contest." + +"Playful!" repeated Mr. Crabb. + +"Yes, and I shall show how I regard it by giving you notice that I no +longer require your services in my school. I shall pay you up at the end +of the week and then discharge you." + +"Mr. Smith," said the usher, "permit me to say that anything more +disgraceful than your own conduct within the last twenty-four hours I +have never witnessed. You have joined your nephew in a plot to disgrace +an innocent boy, declining to do justice, and now you have capped the +climax by censuring me for stopping an act of brutality, merely because +your nephew was implicated in it!" + +"This to me?" exclaimed Socrates Smith, hardly crediting the testimony +of his ears. + +"Yes, sir, and more! I predict that the stupid folly which has +characterized your course will, within six months, drive from you every +scholar you have in your school!" + +"Mr. Crabb," gasped Socrates, never more surprised in his life than +he was at the sudden spirit exhibited by the usher, "I will not be so +insulted. Leave me, and to-morrow morning leave my service." + +"I will, sir. I have no desire to remain here longer." + +But when Mr. Crabb had walked away his spirit sank within him. How was +he to obtain another situation? He must consult immediately with Hector +Roscoe, in whose judgment, boy as he was, he reposed great confidence. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII. THE WELCOME LETTER. + + + +"Hector," said Mr. Crabb, nervously, "I am going to leave the institute +at the end of the week." + +"Have you secured another situation, Mr. Crabb?" asked Hector, +hopefully. + +"No," answered the usher, shaking his head. "I have been discharged." + +"For what reason?" + +"For interfering with Mr. Smith's nephew when he was brutally abusing +Wilkins." + +"Did Mr. Smith fully understand the circumstances?" + +"Yes; but he stands by his nephew right or wrong. He blamed me for +checking his nephew's brutality." + +"This is shameful!" said Hector, warmly. "May I ask, Mr. Crabb, if you +have formed any plans?" + +"No, except to seek a new position!" answered Crabb. "I fear," he +added, despondently, "that it may be some time before I am so fortunate. +Roscoe, I don't know what to do when I leave the school. I shall barely +have five dollars, and you know I have not only myself, but another to +support." + +"Keep up your courage, Mr. Crabb! It is nearly time for me to hear from +the friend in New York to whom I wrote is your behalf. If you can secure +the position of his private tutor--" + +"If I can, I will hail it as providential. It will relieve me at once +from all anxiety." + +"I don't think I shall long remain here myself, Mr. Crabb," said +Hector. "I came here with the full intention of making the most of the +facilities the institute affords for education, but I find the principal +incompetent, and disposed to connive at injustice and brutality. The +only good I have got here has been derived from your instructions." + +"Thank you, Roscoe. Such a tribute is, indeed, welcome," said the usher, +warmly. + +"It is quite sincere, Mr. Crabb, and I hope my good wishes may bring you +the advantage which I have in view." + +"Thank you, Roscoe. I don't blame you for being disgusted with the +management of the school. You have yourself suffered injustice." + +"Yes; in writing home, and charging me with theft, before he had +investigated the circumstances, Mr. Smith did me a great injustice. I +doubt whether he has since written to correct the false charge, as +I required him to do. If not, I shall owe it to myself to leave the +school." + +"You will be justified in doing so." The next day brought Hector two +letters. One was from Allan Roscoe, and read as follows: + +"HECTOR: I have received from your worthy teacher a letter which has +filled me with grief and displeasure. I knew you had great faults, but +I did not dream that you would stoop so low as to purloin money, as it +seems you have done. Mr. Smith writes me that there is no room to doubt +your guilt. He himself discovered in the pocket of your pantaloons a +wallet containing a large sum of money, which he had missed only a short +time before. He learned that you had entered his chamber, and taken the +money, being tempted by your own dishonest and depraved heart. + +"I cannot express the shame I feel at this revelation of baseness. I +am truly glad that you are not connected with me by blood. Yet I cannot +forget that my poor brother treated you as a son; and took pains to +train you up in right ideas. It would give him deep pain could he know +how the boy whom he so heaped with benefits has turned out! I may say +that Guy is as much shocked as I am, but he, it seems, had a better +knowledge of you than I; for he tells me he is not surprised to hear it. +I confess I am, for I thought better of you. + +"Under the circumstances I shall not feel justified in doing for you as +much as I intended. I proposed to keep you at school for two years more, +but I have now to announce that this is your last term, and I advise you +to make the most of it. I will try, when the term closes, to find some +situation for you, where your employer's money will not pass through +your hands. ALLAN ROSCOE." + +Hector read the letter with conflicting feelings, the most prominent +being indignation and contempt for the man who so easily allowed himself +to think evil of him. + +The other letter he found more satisfactory. + +It was from his young friend in New York, Walter Boss. As it is short, I +subjoin it: + +"DEAR HECTOR: I am ever so glad to hear from you, but I should like much +better to see you. I read to papa what you said of Mr. Crabb, and he +says it is very apropos, as he had made up his mind to get me a tutor. +I am rather backward, you see, not having your taste for study, and papa +thinks I need special attention. He says that your recommendation is +sufficient, and he will engage Mr. Crabb without any further inquiry; +and he says he can come at once. He will give him sixty dollars a month +and board, and he will have considerable time for himself, if he wants +to study law or any other profession. I don't know but a cousin may join +me in my studies, in which case he will pay a hundred dollars per month, +if that will be sastisfactory. + +"Why can't you come and make me a visit? We'll have jolly fun. Come +and stay a month, old chap. There is no one I should like better. Your +friend, WALTER Boss." + +Hector read this letter with genuine delight. It offered a way of +escape, both for the unfortunate usher and himself. Nothing could be +more "apropos" to quote Walter's expression. + +Our hero lost no time in seeking out Mr. Crabb. + +"You seem in good spirits, Roscoe," said the usher, his careworn face +contrasting with the beaming countenance of his pupil. + +"Yes, Mr. Crabb, I have reason to be, and so have you." + +"Have you heard from your friend?" asked the usher, hopefully. + +"Yes, and it's all right." + +Mr. Crabb looked ten years younger. + +"Is it really true?" he asked. + +"It is true that you are engaged as private tutor to my friend, Walter. +You'll find him a splendid fellow, but I don't know if the pay is +sufficient," continued Hector, gravely. + +"I am willing to take less pay than I get here," said the usher, "for +the sake of getting away." + +"How much do you receive here?" + +"Twenty dollar a month and board. I might, perhaps, get along on a +little less," he added doubtfully. + +"You won't have to, Mr. Crabb. You are offered sixty dollars a month and +a home." + +"You are not in earnest, Roscoe?" asked the usher, who could not believe +in his good fortune. + +"I will read you the letter, Mr. Crabb." + +When it was read the usher looked radiant. "Roscoe," he said, "you come +to me like an angel from heaven. Just now I was sad and depressed; now +it seems to me that the whole future is radiant. Sixty dollars a month! +Why, it will make me a rich man." + +"Mr. Crabb," said Hector, with a lurking spirit of fun, "can you really +make up your mind to leave Smith Institute, and its kind and benevolent +principal?" + +"I don't think any prisoner ever welcomed his release with deeper +thankfulness," said the usher. "To be in the employ of a man whom you +despise, yet to feel yourself a helpless and hopeless dependent on him +is, I assure you, Roscoe, a position by no means to be envied. For two +years that has been my lot." + +"But it will soon be over." + +"Yes, thanks to you. Why can't you accompany me, Hector? I ought not, +perhaps, to draw you away, but--" + +"But listen to the letter I have received from my kind and considerate +guardian, as he styles himself," said Hector. + +He read Allan Roscoe's letter to the usher. + +"He seems in a great hurry to condemn you," said Mr. Crabb. + +"Yes, and to get me off his hands," said Hector, proudly. "Well, he +shall be gratified in the last. I shall accept Walter's invitation, and +we will go up to New York together." + +"That will, indeed, please me. Of course, you will undeceive your +guardian." + +"Yes. I will get Wilkins and Platt to prepare a statement of the facts +in the case, and accompany it by a note releasing Mr. Roscoe from any +further care or expense for me." + +"But, Hector, can you afford to do this?" + +"I cannot afford to do otherwise, Mr. Crabb. I shall find friends, and I +am willing to work for my living, if need be." + +At this point one of the boys came to Mr. Crabb with a message from +Socrates, desiring the usher to wait upon him at once. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. ANOTHER CHANCE FOR THE USHER. + + + +Mr. Smith had been thinking it over. He had discharged Mr. Crabb in the +anger of the moment, but after his anger had abated, he considered that +it was not for his interest to part with him. Mr. Crabb was a competent +teacher, and it would be well-nigh impossible to obtain another so +cheap. Twenty dollars a month for a teacher qualified to instruct in +Latin and Greek was certainly a beggarly sum, but Mr. Crabb's dire +necessity had compelled him to accept it. Where could he look for +another teacher as cheap? Socrates Smith appreciated the difficulty, +and decided to take Mr. Crabb back, on condition that he would make an +apology to Jim. + +To do Mr. Crabb justice, it may be said that he would not have done this +even if he saw no chance of another situation. But this Mr. Smith did +not know. He did observe, however, that the usher entered his presence +calm, erect and appearing by no means depressed, as he had expected. + +"You sent for me, sir?" said the usher interrogatively. + +"Yes, Mr. Crabb. You will remember that I had occasion to rebuke you, +when we last conferred together, for overstepping the limits of your +authority?" + +"I remember, Mr. Smith, that you showed anger, and found fault with me." + +"Exactly so." + +"Why doesn't he ask to be taken back?" thought Socrates. + +"I have thought the matter over since," continued the principal, "and +have concluded we might be able to arrange matters." + +The usher was surprised. He had not expected that Mr. Smith would make +overtures of reconciliation. He decided not to mention at present his +brighter prospects in New York, but to wait and see what further his +employer had to say. + +Mr. Crabb bowed, but did not make any reply. + +"I take it for granted, Mr. Crabb, that your means are limited," +proceeded Socrates. + +"You are right there, sir. If I had not been poor I should not have +accepted the position of teacher in Smith Institute for the pitiful +salary of twenty dollars a month." + +"Twenty dollars a month and your board, Mr. Crabb," said Socrates, with +dignity, "I consider a very fair remuneration." + +"I do not, Mr. Smith," said the usher, in a decided tone. + +"I apprehend you will find it considerably better than to be out of +employment," said Socrates, rather angry. + +"You are right there, sir." + +"I am glad you show signs of returning reason. Well, Mr. Crabb, I have +thought the matter over, and I have a proposal to make to you." + +"Very well, sir!" + +"I do not wish to distress you by taking away your means of livelihood." + +"You are very considerate, sir." + +There was something in Mr. Crabb's tone that Socrates did not +understand. It really seemed that he did not care whether he was taken +back or not. But, of course, this could not be. It was absolutely +necessary for him, poor as he was, that he should be reinstated. So Mr. +Smith proceeded. + +"To cut the matter short, I am willing to take you back on two +conditions." + +"May I ask you to name them?" + +"The first is, that you shall apologize to my nephew for your +unjustifiable attack upon him day before yesterday." + +"What is the other, Mr. Smith?" + +"The other is, that hereafter you will not exceed the limits of your +authority." + +"And you wish my answer?" asked the usher, raising his eyes, and looking +fixedly at his employer. + +"If you please, Mr. Crabb." + +"Then, sir, you shall have it. Your proposal that I should apologize to +that overgrown bully for restraining him in his savage treatment of a +fellow-pupil is both ridiculous and insulting." + +"You forget yourself, Mr. Crabb," said Socrates, gazing at the hitherto +humble usher in stupefaction. + +"As to promising not to do it again, you will understand that I shall +make no such engagement." + +"Then, Mr. Crabb," said Socrates, angrily, "I shall adhere to what I +said the other day. At the end of this week you must leave me." + +"Of course, sir, that is understood!" + +"You haven't another engagement, I take it," said Mr. Smith, very much +puzzled by the usher's extraordinary independence. + +"Yes, sir, I have." + +"Indeed!" said Socrates, amazed. "Where do you go?" Then was Mr. Crabb's +time for triumph. + +"I have received this morning an offer from the city of New York," he +said. + +"From New York! Is it in a school?" + +"No, sir; I am to be private tutor in a family." + +"Indeed! Do you receive as good pay as here?" + +"As good!" echoed the usher. "I am offered sixty dollars a month and +board, with the possibility of a larger sum, in the event of extra +service being demanded." + +Socrates Smith had never been more surprised. + +This Mr. Crabb, whom he had considered to be under his thumb, as being +wholly dependent upon him, was to receive a salary which he considered +princely. + +"How did you get this office?" he asked. + +"Through my friend, Hector Roscoe," answered the usher. + +"Probably he is deceiving you. It is ridiculous to offer you such a +sum." + +"I am quite aware that you would never think of offering it, but, Mr. +Smith, there are other employers more generous." + +Mr. Crabb left the office with the satisfied feeling that he had the +best of the encounter.. He would have felt gratified could he have known +the increased respect with which he was regarded by the principal as a +teacher who could command so lucrative an engagement in the great city +of New York. + +Before closing this chapter I must take notice of one circumstance which +troubled Mr. Smith, and in the end worked him additional loss. + +I have already said that Jim Smith, in appropriating his uncle's wallet, +abstracted therefrom a five-dollar bill before concealing it in Hector's +pocket. + +This loss Mr. Smith speedily discovered, and he questioned Jim about it. + +"I suppose Roscoe took it," said Jim, glibly. + +"But he says he did not take the wallet," said Socrates, who was assured +in his own mind that his nephew was the one who found it on the bureau. +Without stigmatizing him as a thief, he concluded that Jim meant to get +Hector into trouble. + +"Wasn't it found in his pants' pocket?" queried Jim. + +"Yes, but why should he take five dollars out of the wallet?" + +"I don't know." + +"It doesn't look likely that he would!" said Socrates, eying Jim keenly. + +"Then it may have been Ben Platt or Wilkins," said Jim, with a bright +idea. + +"So it might," said the principal, with a feeling of relief. + +"They said they were in the room--at any rate, Platt said so--at the +time it was concealed, only he made a mistake and took Roscoe for me." + +"There is something in that, James. It may be as you suggest." + +"They are both sneaks," said Jim, who designated all his enemies by that +name. "They'd just as lieve do it as not. I never liked them." + +"I must look into this matter. It's clear that some one has got this +money, and whoever has it has got possession of it dishonestly." + +"To be sure," answered Jim, with unblushing assurance. "If I were you I +would find out who did it, that is, if you don't think Roscoe did it." + +"No, I don't think Roscoe did it, now. You may tell Platt and Wilkins +that I wish to see them." + +Jim could not have been assigned a more pleasing duty. He hated the two +boys quite as much as he did Hector, and he was glad to feel that they +were likely to get into hot water. + +He looked about for some time before he found the two boys. At length he +espied them returning from a walk. + +"Here, you two!" he called out, in a voice ef authority. "You're +wanted!" + +"Who wants us?" asked Ben Platt. + +"My uncle wants you," answered Jim, with malicious satisfaction. "You'd +better go and see him right off, too. You won't find it a trifling +matter, either." + +"Probably Jim has been hatchng some mischief," said Wilkins. "He owes us +a grudge. We'll go and see what it is." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. THE YOUNG DETECTIVES. + + + +When Mr. Smith had made the two boys' understand that he suspected them +of purloining the missing five-dollar bill, they were naturally very +indignant. + +"Mr. Smith," said Ben Platt, in a spirited tone, "no one ever suspected +me of dishonesty before." + +"Nor me," said Wilkins. + +"That's neither here nor there," said the principal, dogmatically. "It +stands to reason that some one took the money. Money doesn't generally +walk off itself," he added, with a sneer. + +"I don't dispute that," said Ben; "but that does not prove that Wilkins +or I had anything to do with it." + +"You were in the room with the money for half an hour, according to your +own confession," said Socrates. + +"Yes, I was." + +"And part of that time Wilkins was also present." + +"Yes, sir," assented Wilkins. + +"I am no lawyer," said the principal, triumphantly, "but that seems to +me a pretty good case of circumstantial evidence." + +"You seem to forget, sir, that there is another person who had an +excellent chance to take the money," said Ben Platt. + +"You mean Hector Roscoe? That is true. It lies between you three." + +"No, Mr. Smith, I do not mean Hector Roscoe. I have as much confidence +in Roscoe as myself." + +"So have I," sneered Socrates. + +"And I know he would not take any money that did not belong to him. I +mean a very different person--your nephew, James Smith." + +Socrates Smith frowned with anger. "There seems to be a conspiracy +against my unfortunate nephew," he said. "I don't believe a word of your +mean insinuations, and I am not deceived by your attempt to throw your +own criminality upon him. It will not injure him in my eyes. Moreover, I +shall be able to trace back the theft to the wrongdoer. The missing bill +was marked with a cross upon the back, and should either of you attempt +to pass it, your guilt will be made manifest. I advise you to restore it +to me while there is yet time." + +"The bill was marked?" asked Wilkins, eagerly. + +"Yes." + +"Then, sir, you may have a chance to find out who took it." + +"The discovery might not please you," said Socrates, with a sneer. + +"It would give me the greatest pleasure, Mr. Smith. If I can in any way +help you discover the missing note, I will do so." + +"You can go," said Socrates, abruptly. + +When the two boys had left the presence of the principal, Ben Platt, +said, "What are you going to do about it, Wilkins?" + +"First of all," answered Wilkins, promptly, "I am going to find out if +Jim took that money." + +"How can you find out?" + +"Did you notice that he had come out with a new ring?" + +"No, I didn't observe it." + +"He has bought it since that money was lost!" said Wilkins, +significantly. + +"Do you think he purchased it with the missing bill?" + +"I wouldn't wonder at all. At any rate, I am going to find out. He must +have bought it from Washburn, the jeweler. Will you go with me, and +ask?" + +"Yes," answered Ben, eagerly. "Let us go alone. If we can only prove the +theft upon Jim, so that old Sock can't help believing that he stole the +money, we shall be cleared; though, as to that, there isn't a scholar in +school who would believe the charge against us." + +"Still, we may as well do what we can to bring the guilt home to Jim +Smith." + +Ten minutes later the two boys entered the shop of Mr. Washburn. + +"Will you show me some rings, Mr. Washburn?" asked Wilkins. + +"Certainly," answered the jeweler, politely. + +"What is the price of that?" asked Wilkins, pointing to one exactly like +the one he had seen on Jim's finger. + +"Three dollars and a half. It is a very pretty pattern." + +"Yes, sir. There's one of our boys who has one just like it." + +"You mean James Smith, the principal's nephew." + +"Yes, sir." + +"He bought it of me yesterday." + +The two boys exchanged a quick glance. + +They felt that they were on the brink of a discovery. + +"Did he give you a five-dollar bill in payment?" asked Ben Platt. + +"Yes," answered the jeweler, in surprise. + +"Could you identify that bill?" + +"What are you driving at, boys?" asked Mr. Washburn, keenly. + +"I will explain to you if you will answer my questions first." + +"Yes, I could identify the bill." + +"Have you it in your possession still?" + +"I have." + +"How will you know it?" + +"It seems to me, my boy, you are in training for a lawyer." + +"I have a very urgent reason for asking you this question, Mr. +Washburn." + +"Then I will answer you. When the note was given me, I noticed that it +was on the Park Bank of New York." + +"Will you be kind enough to see if you can find it?"' + +"Certainly." + +The jeweler opened his money drawer, and after a brief search, produced +the bill in question. + +It was a five-dollar bill on the Park Bank of New York, as he had +already told the boys. + +"Now, Mr. Washburn," asked Wilkins, trying to repress his excitement, +"will you examine the back of the bill, and see if there is any mark on +it." + +The jeweler did as requested, and announced, after slight examination, +that there was a cross on the back of the bill in the upper right hand +corner. + +"Hurrah!" shouted Ben, impulsively. + +To the wondering jeweler he explained his precise object in the inquiry +he had made, and the boys were complimented by Mr. Washburn for their +shrewdness. + +"If I ever meet with a loss, I shall certainly call on you for +assistance, boys," he said. + +"Thank you, Mr. Washburn," answered Wilkins, "but I do not expect to be +here to be called upon." + +"You are not going to leave the institute, are you?" + +"I shall write to my father in what manner I have been treated, and let +him understand how the principal manages the school, and I feel sure he +will withdraw me." + +"Ditto for me!" said Ben Platt. "Old Sock's partiality for his nephew +has been carried too far, and now that the only decent teacher is +going--Mr. Crabb--I don't mean, to stay here if I can help it." + +The boys, upon their return to the school, sought out the principal. + +"Well, boys," he said, "have you come to confess?" + +"No, sir," answered Ben, "but we have come to give you some information +about your money." + +"I was sure you knew something about it," said Socrates, with a sneer. +"I am glad you have decided to make a clean breast of it." + +"You are mistaken, sir." + +"Well, out with your information!" said the principal, roughly. + +"A five-dollar bill, marked as you have described, was paid to Mr. +Washburn, the jeweler, only yesterday." + +"Ha! Well?" + +"The one who offered it purchased a gold ring." + +"I don't care what he bought. Who was it that offered the money?" + +"Your nephew, James Smith!" + +"I don't believe it," said the teacher, very much disconcerted. + +"Then, sir, I advise you to question Mr. Washburn." + +"How can he identify the bill? Is it the only five-dollar bill he has?" + +"The only five-dollar bill on the Park Bank of New York, and he says he +noticed that this was the bank that issued the bill handed him by your +nephew." + +"What of that?" + +"The note, which he still has in his possession, is marked just exactly +as you have described." + +"It may have been marked since it came into Mr. Washburn's hands," said +Socrates, but he was evidently very much disturbed by the intelligence. +He might not confess it, but he could not help believing that Jim was +the thief, after all. + +"You can go," he said, harshly. "I will look into this improbable +story." + + + + +CHAPTER XXV. SMITH INSTITUTE GROWS UNPOPULAR. + + + +Hector lost no time in drawing up a statement of the facts connected +with the loss of the wallet, which he got Wilkins and Ben Platt to sign. +This he put into an envelope directed to Allan Roscoe, accompanied by a +brief note, which I subjoin: + +"MR. ROSCOE: I send you a statement, signed by two of my schoolmates, +showing that the charge which Mr. Smith was in such a hurry to bring +against me, in order to screen his nephew, who is the real thief, is +wholly unfounded. I am not particularly surprised that you were ready +to believe it, nor do I care enough for your good opinion to worry. I +consider that it is due to myself, however, to prove to you that I have +done nothing of which I need be ashamed. Finding the scholars here in +terror of a bully, who imposed upon his schoolfellows with impunity +because, being the principal's nephew, he was protected in so doing, I +taught him a lesson which may not do him good, but has certainly been of +benefit to his fellow-pupils. In so doing, I have incurred his enmity, +and that of his uncle, who, for more than one reason, is utterly unfit +to conduct a school of this kind. + +"You threaten to remove me from school at the end of this term. I do not +wish to remain, and shall remove myself at the end of this week. I shall +not look to you for support, nor do I expect again to depend upon the +estate to which I once thought myself the heir, unless I should be +able to prove that I am the son of your brother, as I fully believe, +notwithstanding the letter you exhibit." + +"HECTOR ROSCOE." + +When Mr. Allan Roscoe received this letter he was very much disturbed. +As he had no affection for Hector, and did not care what became of him, +this may, perhaps, excite surprise. Could it be the last sentence which +excited his alarm? + +"Is that letter from Hector?" asked Guy, who had noticed the postmark as +it lay upon his father's table. + +"Yes," answered Allan Roscoe. + +"Does he try to explain his theft?" asked Guy. + +"He says he had nothing to do with it." + +"Oh, of course!" sneered Guy. "You don't believe it, do you?" + +"He sends a statement of two of the pupils to the effect that the wallet +was taken by another pupil, a nephew of the principal." + +"That's too thin!" + +"I don't know. It may be true. I don't like the boy, but I hardly think +it probable he would steal." + +"You think better of him than I do. I suppose he wants to get into your +good graces again?" + +"No; he says he shall leave school at the end of this week, and will not +again look to me for support." + +"That's jolly!" exclaimed Guy, much pleased. "You're well rid of him, +papa. Let him go away and make a living as he can. He'll have to +turn newsboy, or something of that sort--perhaps he'll have to be a +bootblack. Wouldn't that be a good come down for a boy like Hector?" + +Guy spoke with great glee, but his father did not seem to enjoy his +release as well as Guy. He showed that he understood the boy better when +he said: + +"Hector will not have to resort to any such employment. He has a good +education, and he can get some decent position, probably. On the whole, +I am sorry he is going to leave my protection, for friends of the family +may, perhaps, blame me." + +"But it isn't your fault, papa. He is taking his own course." + +"To be sure. You are right there!" + +Mr. Roscoe thought so much on the subject, however, that the next day he +went to Smith Institute to see Hector, without telling Guy where he was +going. + +Arrived there, he asked to see Mr. Smith. + +The latter did not appear to be in a happy frame of mind. + +"How do you do, Mr. Roscoe?" he said. + +"Very well," answered Mr. Roscoe, briefly. "Mr. Smith, I wish to see my +ward." + +"I am sorry you cannot see him, Mr. Roscoe." + +"Cannot see him! Why not?" + +"Because he has left the institute." + +Allan Roscoe frowned. + +"Why has he left?" he asked. + +"He has left against my will. I think he has been influenced by an usher +in my employ who has behaved very ungratefully. I took him, sir, when he +was in danger of starving, and now he leaves me at a day's notice, after +doing all he can to break up my school." + +"I feel no particular interest in your usher," said Allan Roscoe, +coldly. "I wish to obtain information about the boy I placed under your +charge. Do you know where he has gone?" + +"No; he did not tell me," answered the principal. + +"You wrote me that he had been detected in stealing a wallet!" + +"Yes," answered Socrates, embarrassed. "Appearances were very much +against him." + +"Do you still think he took it?" + +"I may have been mistaken," answered Mr. Smith, nervously, for he began +to see that the course he had been pursuing was a very unwise one. + +"Hector has written me, inclosing a statement signed by two of his +schoolfellows, implicating your own nephew, and he charges that you made +the charge against him out of partiality for the same." + +"There is considerable prejudice against my nephew," said Socrates. + +"And for very good reasons, I should judge," said Allan Roscoe, +severely. "Hector describes him as an outrageous bully and tyrant. I am +surprised, Mr. Smith, that you should have taken his part." + +Now, Socrates had already had a stormy interview with his nephew. Though +partial to Jim, and not caring whether or not he bullied the other +boys, as soon as he came to see that Jim's presence was endangering +the school, he reprimanded him severely. He cared more for himself--for +number one--than for anyone else in the universe. He had been +exceedingly disturbed by receiving letters from the fathers of Wilkins +and Ben Platt, and two other fathers, giving notice that they should +remove their sons at the end of the term, and demanding, in the +meantime, that his nephew should be sent away forthwith. + +And now Allan Roscoe, whom he had hoped would side with him, had also +turned against him. Then he had lost the services of a competent usher, +whom he got cheaper than he could secure any suitable successor, and, +altogether, things seemed all going against him. + +Moreover, Jim, who had been the occasion of all the trouble, had +answered him impudently, and Socrates felt that he had been badly used. +As to his own agency in the matter, he did not give much thought to +that. + +"My nephew is going to leave the school, Mr. Roscoe," said Socrates, +half-apologetically. + +"I should think it was full time, Mr. Smith." + +"Perhaps so," said Smith; "but if I have stood by him, it has been +in ignorance. I cannot think him as wrong as your ward has probably +represented. Hector was jealous of him." + +"Of his scholarship, I presume?" + +"Well, no," answered the principal, reluctantly, "but of his physical +superiority, and--and influence in the school. I may say, in fact, +Mr. Roscoe, that till your ward entered the school it was a happy and +harmonious family. His coming stirred up strife and discontent, and +I consider him primarily responsible for all the trouble that has +occurred." + +"I don't defend Hector Roscoe," said Allan, "but he writes me that your +nephew was a bully, who imposed upon his schoolfellows, and that he, by +taking their part and stopping this tyranny, incurred his ill-will and +yours." + +"I supposed I should be misrepresented," said Socrates, meekly. "I am +devoted to my school and my pupils, Mr. Roscoe. I am wearing out my life +in their service. I may make mistakes sometimes, but my heart--my heart, +Mr. Roscoe," continued Socrates, tapping his waistcoat, "is right, and +acquits me of any intentional injustice." + +"I am glad to hear it, Mr. Smith," said Allan Roscoe, stiffly. "As +Hector has left you, I have only to settle your bill, and bid you +good-day." + +"Will you not exert your influence to persuade the boy to return?" +pleaded Socrates. + +"As I don't know where he is, I don't see how I can," said Allan Roscoe, +dryly. + +"That man is an arch hypocrite!" he said to himself, as he was returning +home. + +I may state here that at the end of the term half the pupils left Smith +Institute, and Socrates Smith lamented too late the folly that had made +him and his school unpopular. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI. HECTOR'S ARRIVAL IN NEW YORK. + + + +Mr. Crabb and Hector were sitting side by side in a railroad car, +speeding away from Smith Institute. In the heart of each was a feeling +of relief, which increased as each minute carried them farther away from +the school. + +"Hector," said the usher, looking younger and happier than his pupil had +ever known him, "I feel like a free man now. It is a feeling that I have +not had since I first set foot in Smith Institute." + +"I think you will lead a happier life in New York, Mr. Crabb." + +"I am sure of it. Thanks to your considerate kindness, I shall for the +first time earn an ample salary, and even be able to lay up money. Is my +future pupil about your age?" + +"He is a year younger." + +"Where did you make his acquaintance?" + +"At Saratoga, My father and I spent two months at Congress Hall two +summers ago, and as Walter's family were also there, we naturally got to +be friends. He is a capital fellow, and you will be sure to like him." + +"I am ready to like him after reading that letter he wrote you. Is he +fond of study?" + +"That is his weak point," said Hector, laughing. "Walter was never +cut out for a scholar. I don't mean, of course, that he hasn't fair +capacity, but his taste doesn't lie that way. However, he won't give you +any trouble, only you won't succeed as well as you may wish in pushing +him on." + +"All boys are not cut out for scholars," said the usher. "Now you, +Hector, would do excellently, and might hope to make a very successful +professional man." + +Hector shook his head. + +"I must look to a different career," he said. "I am to be the architect +of my own fortune, you know." + +"What are your plans, Hector?" asked the usher. + +"I will consult with Mr. Boss, Walter's father. By the way, he knows +nothing of the change in my circumstances. He supposes me to be the heir +to the Roscoe estate." + +"Trouble has come upon you early, Hector. Should you need help +hereafter, you must remember that I am earning a good salary and--" + +"Thank you, Mr. Crabb," gratefully, "but you will need all you earn. I +don't look upon my loss of fortune as a trouble. I think it will make me +more manly and self-reliant, and stimulate me to exertion. I have a fair +education, and I am sure I can earn my living in some honest way." + +"If that is your spirit, Hector, I am sure you will succeed. You are +young and hopeful. I am too much inclined to despond. I have always been +timid about the future. It is a matter of temperament." + +It was early in the afternoon when they reached New York. As they +emerged from the depot a bright-faced boy came up eagerly and greeted +them. + +"How are you, Hector?" he said. "You see, I came to meet you. I have +been longing to have you come." + +"I am just as glad to see you, Walter," said Hector, heartily. "Mr. +Crabb, here is your future pupil, Walter Boss." + +"I hope we may soon be friends, Walter," said the usher, attracted by +the bright, sunny face of the boy. + +Walter gave the usher his hand. + +"I hope so, too," he said, smiling. "I'll try not to worry you any more +than I can help." + +"I have no misgivings," said Mr. Crabb, as he mentally contrasted his +new pupil with Jim Smith, and two or three others at the institute, who +had been a frequent source of trouble and annoyance. + +"Here is the carriage," said Walter, pointing out a plain but handsome +carriage waiting outside. "Bundle in, both of you! I beg your pardon, +Mr. Crabb, for my familiarity. That was intended for Hector." + +"I am ready to be classed with Hector," said Mr. Crabb. + +"I am glad to hear you say so. I was afraid you would be stiff and +dignified." + +"I think I shall take my cue from you." + +"Oh, my rule is, go as you please. Edward, drive home!" + +The house occupied by Mr. Boss was a fine brown-stone dwelling on +Forty-second Street. Arrived there, Mr. Crabb was shown into a spacious +chamber, on the third floor, furnished with a luxury to which the poor +usher was quite unaccustomed. + +"Now, Hector, you can have a room to yourself, or you may share my den," +said Walter. + +"I would rather share the den," said Hector. + +"That's what I hoped. You see, we shall have ever so much to say to each +other. We haven't seen each other for over a year." + +A slight shade of gravity overspread Hector's face. Since he had met his +friend, his father had died, and he had been reduced from the heir of +wealth to a penniless orphan. Of this last change Walter knew nothing, +but Hector did not mean long to leave him in ignorance. + +At dinner the two newcomers saw Mr. Ross, from whom they received a +friendly welcome. The usher was put at his ease at once. + +"I hope you'll get along with my boy," said the bluff city merchant. "Of +one thing you may be assured, your scholarship won't be severely taxed +in educating him. Walter is a pretty good boy, but he isn't a prodigy of +learning." + +"I may be some day, father," said Walter, "with Mr. Crabb's help." + +"I take it Mr. Crabb isn't able to perform miracles," said Mr. Ross, +good-humoredly. "No, Mr. Crabb, I shan't expect too much of you. Get +your pupil on moderately fast, and I shall be satisfied. I am glad, +Hector, that you were able to pay Walter a visit at this time." + +"So am I, sir." + +"I thought you might not be able to leave your studies." + +"I have given up study, sir." + +"I am surprised at that, Hector. I thought you contemplated going to +college." + +"So I did, sir, but circumstances have changed my plans." + +"Indeed!" + +"Yes, sir; I will explain after dinner, and will ask your advice." + +Mr. Ross dropped the subject, and after dinner led the way to the +library, where he sank into an armchair, and, breathing a sigh of +satisfaction, said: "This, Mr. Crabb, is the most enjoyable part of the +twenty-four hours for me. I dismiss business cares and perplexities, and +read my evening paper, or some new book, in comfort." + +As the usher looked about him and saw costly books, engravings, +furniture and pictures, he could well understand that in such +surroundings the merchant could take solid comfort. It was a most +agreeable contrast to the plain and poverty-stricken room at Smith +Institute, where the boys pursued their evening studies under his +superintendence. + +"Well, Hector, so you don't propose to go back to school," said the +merchant. "Isn't that rather a sudden resolution?" + +"Yes, sir; but, as I said, circumstances have changed." + +"What circumstances? Because you are rich, you don't think you ought to +be idle, I hope?" + +"Oh, no, sir. It is because I have discovered that I am not rich." + +"Not rich! I always understood that your father left a large estate," +said Mr. Ross, in surprise. + +"So he did, sir." + +"Didn't it descend to you?" + +"I thought so till recently." + +"Why don't you think so now?" + +In answer, Hector told the story of the revelation made to him by Allan +Roscoe, after his father's death. + +"You see, therefore," he concluded, "that I am penniless, and a +dependent upon Mr. Allan Roscoe's generosity." + +"This is a most extraordinary story!" said the merchant, after a pause. + +"Yes, sir; it changes my whole future." + +"I suppose Mr. Allan Roscoe is the beneficiary, and the estate goes to +him?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Did your father--the late Mr. Roscoe--ever hint to you anything which +could lead you to suspect that you were not his own, but an adopted +son?" + +"Never, Mr. Ross," answered Hector, with emphasis. + +"Did he continue to treat you with affection." + +"Always. Nothing in his manner ever would have led me to imagine that I +was not his own son." + +"He left no will?" + +"No, sir." + +"What are your plans?" + +"I do not wish to remain dependent upon Allan Roscoe. I should like to +obtain a situation of some kind in the city, if I can." + +"I can probably serve you, then, after a while. For the present, stay +here as Walter's companion." + +"Thank you, sir; I should like nothing better." + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII. LARRY DEANE. + + + +Not altogether in accordance with his inclinations, Walter was set to +work at his studies immediately under the direction of Mr. Crabb. He +asked his father for a week's vacation to go about the city with Hector, +but his father answered in the negative. + +"You are too far behind in your studies, Walter," he said. "You are two +years, at least, behind Hector, and cannot spare the time as well as +he." + +"Hector will have to go round alone," objected Walter. + +"It will do him no harm to get acquainted with the different parts +of the city, as that will be a kind of knowledge he may require if he +should obtain a situation." + +"I shan't see much of him." + +"Oh, yes, you will; Mr. Crabb will not make you study all day. Mr. +Crabb, you may work with Walter from nine to one. This, with perhaps an +hour or more devoted to study in the afternoon or evening, will enable +him to make fair progress." + +This arrangement struck Walter favorably, as he could, whenever he +desired it, spend the whole afternoon with Hector. + +Hector found it very pleasant to act upon the suggestion made by Mr. +Ross. He had visited the city of New York at different times, but had +never enjoyed the opportunity of exploring it by himself. His first +visit was made to Central Park, where he mingled with the crowds +wandering about in search of pleasure. + +He made his way to the lake, and took passage in one of the skiffs +which, in charge of a skilled oarsman, makes a tour of the pretty and +picturesque sheet of water. + +The second morning he turned his steps southward, and walked down +Broadway. It was a leisurely walk, for he had no scruple in stopping +wherever he saw anything in the streets or in the shop windows that +seemed to him worthy of attention. About the corner of Canal Street +he was very much surprised at a boy who was on his knees, blacking the +boots of an elderly gentleman--a boy whom he recognized at once as the +son of a man who had for years been in his father's employ as gardener +at Castle Roscoe. + +"What brings him here?" thought Hector, much surprised. + +"Larry Deane!" he said, as the boy finished his job, and rose from his +feet to receive his pay. + +"Hector Roscoe!" exclaimed Larry, not much less surprised. + +"What brings you here, and what has reduced you to such work?" inquired +Hector. + +Larry Deane was a boy of about Hector's age. He was a healthy-looking +country lad, looking like many another farmer's son, fresh from +the country. He had not yet acquired that sharp, keen look which +characterizes, in most cases, the New York boy who has spent all his +life in the streets. + +"I can answer both your questions with the same word, Master Hector," +said Larry, as a sober look swept over his broad, honest face. + +"Don't call me master, Larry. We are equals here. But what is that +word?" + +"That word is trouble,'" answered the bootblack. + +"Come with me into this side street," said Hector, leading the way into +Howard Street. "You have a story to tell, and I want to hear it." + +"Yes, I have a story to tell." + +"I hope your father and mother are well," said Hector, interrupting him. + +"Yes, they are well in health, but they are in trouble, as I told you." + +"What is the trouble?" + +"It all comes of Mr. Allan Roscoe," answered Larry, "and his son, Guy." + +"Tell me all about it." + +"I was walking in the fields one day," said Larry, "when Guy came out +and began to order me round, and call me a clodhopper and other unlikely +names, which I didn't enjoy. Finally he pulled off my hat, and when I +put it back on my head, he pulled it off again. Finally I found the only +way to do was to give him as good as he sent. So I pulled off his hat +and threw it up in a tree. He became very angry, and ordered me to go up +after it. I wouldn't do it, but walked away. The next day my father +was summoned to the house, where Mr. Allan Roscoe complained of me for +insulting his son. He asked my father to thrash me, and when father +refused, he discharged him from his employment. A day or two afterward a +new gardener came to Roscoe Castle, and father understood that there was +no chance of his being taken back." + +"That was very mean in Mr. Roscoe," said Hector, indignantly. + +"Yes, so it was; but father couldn't do anything. He couldn't get a +new place, for it wasn't the right time of year, and Mr. Roscoe said he +wouldn't give him a recommendation. Well, we had very little money in +the house, for mother has been sick of late years, and all father's +extra earnings went to pay for medicines and the doctor's bill. So one +day I told father I would come to New York and see if I couldn't find +something to do." + +"I think you did the right thing, Larry," said Hector, approvingly. "It +was your duty to help your father if you could." + +"I can't help him much," answered Larry. + +"What made you take up this business, Larry?" + +"I couldn't get anything else to do, besides, this pays better than +working in a store or office." + +"How--much can you earn at it?" + +"Six or seven dollars a week." + +"I should think it would require all that to support you." + +"It would if I went to a boarding house, but I can't afford that." + +"Where do you live?" + +"At the Newsboys' Lodging House." + +"How much does that cost you?" + +"For eighteen cents a day I get supper, lodging and breakfast. In the +middle of the day I go to a cheap restaurant." + +"Then you are able to save something?" + +"Yes; last week I sent home three dollars, the week before two dollars +and a half." + +"Why, that is doing famously. You are a good boy, Larry." + +"Thank you, Hector; but, though it is doing very well for me, it isn't +as much as they need at home. Besides, I can't keep it up, as, after +a while, I shall need to buy some new clothes. If your father had been +alive, my father would never have lost his place. Master Hector, won't +you use your influence with your uncle to have him taken back?" + +Hector felt keenly how powerless he was in the matter. He looked grave, +as he answered: + +"Larry, you may be sure that I would do all in my power to have your +father restored to the position from which he never should have been +removed; but I fear I can do nothing." + +"Won't you write to Mr. Roscoe?" pleaded Larry, who, of course, did not +understand why Hector was powerless. + +"Yes, I will write to him, but I am sorry to say that I have very little +influence with Mr. Roscoe." + +"That is strange," said Larry; "and you the owner of the estate." + +Hector did not care to explain to Larry just how matters stood, so he +only said: + +"I can't explain to you what seems strange to you, Larry, but I may be +able to do so some time. I will certainly write to Mr. Roscoe, as you +desire; but you must not build any hopes upon it. Meanwhile, will you +accept this from me, and send it to your father?" + +As he spoke, he drew from his pocketbook a five-dollar bill and handed +it to his humble friend. + +Larry would not have accepted it had he known that Hector was nearly as +poor as himself, but, supposing him to be the heir of a large and rich +estate, he felt no hesitation. + +"Thank you very much, Hector," he said; "you had always a kind heart. +This money will do my father very much good. I will send it to him +to-day." + +"Do you generally stand here, Larry?" asked Hector. + +"Yes." + +"Then I will take pains to see you again." + +"Shall you stay long in the city, Master Hector?" + +"Not Master Hector." + +"Then Hector, if you don't mind." + +"I shall be here for the present--I don't know how long." + +"Then let me black your boots for nothing every time you come by--I want +to do something for you." + +"Thank you, Larry; but I don't like to have a friend perform such a +service. Remember me to your father when you write." + +"I wish I could do something for Larry," said Hector, to himself, as he +walked away. "As it is, I stand in need of help myself." + +He was to make a friend that day under rather unusual circumstances. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII. TWO MORE ACQUAINTANCES. + + + +Hector continued his walk downtown. Despite the crowds of persons who +thronged the sidewalks, he did not anticipate meeting anyone else that +he knew. But he was destined to another surprise. On the corner of +Murray Street he saw two persons advancing toward him, the last, +perhaps, that he expected to see. Not to keep the reader in suspense, it +was Allan Roscoe and his son, Guy. + +Guy was the first to recognize Hector. Of course, he, too, was +surprised. + +"Why, there's Hector!" he exclaimed, directing his father's attention to +our hero. + +Allan Roscoe looked up quickly. It is hard to tell whether he felt glad +or the reverse at this meeting with the boy whom he called his ward. + +An instant later Hector recognized Guy and his father. + +"How do you do, Mr. Roscoe?" he said, politely. + +"Very well. When did you reach New York?" + +"On Saturday." + +It should have been explained that Hector had spent Sunday quietly with +Mr. Ross and Walter, and that this was Monday. + +"Ahem! I was very much surprised at your leaving the institute," said +Mr. Roscoe. + +"I explained to you in my letter why I proposed to leave it," Hector +answered, coldly. + +"I did not think your reason sufficient." + +"As Mr. Smith saw fit to bring a base charge against me, and persisted +in it, even after he must have been convinced that his nephew was +guilty, I was unwilling to remain under his charge any longer." + +"The circumstances were against you," said Mr. Roscoe. + +"You might have known me better than that, Mr. Roscoe," said Hector, +proudly. "Yet you condemned me unheard." + +"Of course, I am very glad that the charge is unfounded," said Mr. +Roscoe, awkwardly. + +"Where there is smoke there is generally fire," said Guy, spitefully. + +"I understand you, Guy," said Hector, half turning to look at the boy +who had usurped his place. "I hope you won't think it impolite if I say +that I care nothing whatever for your opinion." + +"You put on as many airs as ever," sneered Guy. "I should think you +would be a little more humble in your changed position." + +"I have not changed, even if my position has," answered Hector. "Money +is nothing to be proud of." + +"I apprehend that the world judges differently," said Allan Roscoe. +"Since you have taken your destiny into your own hands, you will excuse +me for asking how you intend to earn your living?" + +"I hope to get a mercantile position," answered Hector. + +"Take my advice," said Guy, with a derisive smile, "and buy yourself a +blacking box and brush. I am told bootblacks make a good deal of money." + +"Hush, Guy!" said his father. "Do not insult Hector." + +But Hector concerned himself but little with any slight received from +Guy Roscoe. His words, however, recalled his thoughts to the boy he had +so recently met, Larry Deane, and he resolved to see if he could not +help him by an appeal to Allan Roscoe. + +"Mr. Roscoe," said he, quickly, "I nearly forgot something I want very +much to say to you." + +"What is it?" asked his guardian, suspiciously. It occurred to him that +Hector wished to borrow some money, and he was considering how little he +could decently give him. + +"I hear you have discharged Reuben Deane from his position?" + +"How did you hear it?" + +"From his son, Larry." + +"Where did you see Larry?" asked Allan, in some curiosity. + +"He has been driven to take up that employment which Guy so kindly +recommended to me." + +"Larry Deane a bootblack! That's a good one!" exclaimed Guy, with +evident relish. + +"I don't think so," said Hector. "The poor boy is picking a poor +living, and sending home what he can to his father, who cannot get new +employment. Mr. Roscoe, why did you discharge him?" + +"I can answer that question, though it's none of your business all +the same," volunteered Guy. "The boy Larry was impudent to me, and his +father took his part." + +"Mr. Roscoe," said Hector, "Reuben Deane was in my father's employ +before I was born. Larry and I used to play together when we were little +boys, and since when we were older." + +"A bootblack is a nice playmate," said Guy, with his usual sneer. + +"He was not a bootblack then," retorted Hector, "nor would he be now but +for your mean spite. Mr. Roscoe, as I happen to know, my father always +valued the services of Reuben Deane, and I ask, in his name, that you +give him back his place." + +"My brother may have been deceived in him," said Allan Roscoe, coldly, +emphasizing the first two words, in order to remind Hector that he was +no longer to consider him as his father; "but I cannot promise to adopt +all his views and protege's. I have displaced Deane and substituted for +him a gardener with whom I am better pleased." + +"Have you no sympathy for the poverty and distress of a man who has +served our family faithfully for so many years?" asked Hector, half +indignantly. + +"My father is competent to manage his own affairs," said Guy, +offensively. + +"You don't appear to think so, or you would not answer for him," +retorted Hector. + +"Boys, I must request you to desist from this bickering," said Allan +Roscoe. "I am sorry, Hector, that I cannot comply with your request. By +the way, you did not tell me where you were staying." + +"With a gentleman on Forty-second Street." + +"What is his name?" + +"Andrew Ross." + +"Not the eminent merchant of that name?" asked Allan Roscoe, in +surprise. + +"Yes, I believe so." + +"He is worth a million." + +"I supposed he was rich. He lives in an elegant house." + +"Where did you get acquainted with him, Hector?" + +"At Saratoga, a year and a half ago." + +"Did you beg him to take you in?" asked Guy, unpleasantly. + +Hector quietly ignored the question. + +"Walter Boss and I have been very intimate, and I was invited to pay him +a visit." + +"Does he know that you are a poor boy?" asked Guy. + +"I have communicated to Mr. Ross what your father told me," answered +Hector, coldly. "He is a real friend, and it made no difference in his +treatment of me. I hope to get a situation through his influence." + +"You are lucky to have such a man for a friend," said Allan Roscoe, who +would himself have liked to become acquainted with a man whose social +position was so high. "I hope you will not misrepresent me to him. +Should any opportunity occur, I will try to procure you employment." + +"Thank you, sir," said Hector, but his tone lacked heartiness. He saw +that his being a visitor to Mr. Ross and his son had made a difference +in his favor. Guy, too, began to think he might be a little more +gracious. He, like his father, liked to associate with boys of high +social position, and he would have liked to be introduced to Walter +Ross. + +"What is your number?" he asked of Hector, "I don't know but I'll call +and see you some time. Is Walter Ross generally at home?" + +"Don't put yourself to any inconvenience to call," said Hector, +significantly. "Walter and I are generally away in the afternoon." + +"Oh, I don't care to call upon you," said Guy, annoyed. "I can have all +the company I want." + +"I won't detain you any longer, Mr. Roscoe," said Hector, realizing that +the conversation had occupied considerable time. "Good-morning." + +"That boy is as proud as ever," said Guy, after Hector had left them. +"He doesn't seem to realize that he has lost his money." + +"He has not had time to realize it yet. It won't be long before he will +understand the difference it makes." + +"I am glad he isn't my cousin," continued Guy. "I dislike him more than +any boy I know." + +Allan Roscoe looked thoughtful. + +"I fear that boy will give me trouble yet," he said to himself. "He +evidently suspects that something is wrong." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX. JIM SMITH EFFECTS A LOAN. + + + +After parting with Allan Roscoe and Guy, Hector kept on his way +downtown. He did not expect to meet any more acquaintances, but he +was again to be surprised. Standing on the sidewalk having his boots +blacked, he recognized the schoolfellow he had least reason to like--Jim +Smith. + +"What brings Jim here?" he asked himself, in some surprise. + +He did not feel inclined to go up and claim acquaintance, but it chanced +that he became witness of a piece of meanness characteristic of Jim. + +When the young bootblack had finished polishing his shoes, he waited for +his customary fee. + +Jim fumbled in his pockets, and finally produced two cents. + +"There, boy," he said, placing them in the hand of the disgusted knight +of the brush. + +"What's that for?" he asked. + +"It's your pay." + +"Look here, mister, you've made a mistake; here's only two cents." + +"I know it." + +"Do you think I work for any such price as that?" + +"Perhaps you expect a dollar!" sneered Jim. + +"No, I don't; but a nickel's my lowest price. Plenty of gentlemen give +me a dime." + +"That's too much; I've paid you all I'm going to." + +"Wait a minute. That boot don't look as well as the other." + +Jim unsuspiciously allowed the boy to complete his work, but he had +occasion to regret it. The bootblack hastily rubbed his brush in the mud +on the sidewalk and daubed it on one of Jim's boots, quite effacing the +shine. + +"There, that'll do," he said, and, scrambling to his feet, ran round the +corner. + +Then, for the first time, Jim looked down, and saw what the boy had +done. He uttered an exclamation of disgust and looked round hastily to +see where the offender had betaken himself. His glance fell upon Hector, +who was quietly looking on, and not without a sense of enjoyment. + +It often happens that we greet cordially those for whom we have even a +feeling of aversion when we meet them unexpectedly away from our usual +haunts. Jim, who was beginning to regret that circumstances had forced +him to leave the serene sanctuary of Smith Institute, since now he would +be under the necessity of making his own living, was glad to see our +hero. + +"Is it you, Roscoe?" he said, eagerly. + +"Yes," answered Hector, coolly. + +"What are you doing?" + +"Walking about the city, just at present." + +"Suppose we go together." + +Hector hardly knew how to refuse, and the two boys kept down Broadway in +company. + +"You're surprised to see me, ain't you?" asked Jim. + +"Rather so." + +"You see, I got tired of the school. I've been there three years, so I +told my uncle I would come to New York and see if I couldn't get work." + +"I hope you may succeed," said Hector, for he would not allow his +dislikes to carry him too far. He felt that there was room in the world +for Jim and himself, too. + +"Are you going to work?" asked Jim. + +"I hope so." + +"Got anything in view?" + +"Not exactly.'" + +"It would be a good thing if we could get into the same place." + +"Do you say that because we have always agreed so well?" asked Hector, +amused. + +"We may be better friends in future," said Jim, with a grin. + +Hector was judiciously silent. + +"Where are you staying?" + +"Up on Forty-second Street." + +"That's a good way uptown, isn't it?" + +"Yes, pretty far up." + +"Are you boarding?" + +"No; I am visiting some friends." + +"Couldn't you get me in there as one of your school friends?" + +This question indicated such an amount of assurance on the part of his +old enemy that at first Hector did not know how to reply in fitting +terms. + +"I couldn't take such a liberty with my friends," he said. "Besides, it +doesn't strike me that we were on very intimate terms." + +But Jim was not sensitive to a rebuff. + +"The fact is," he continued, "I haven't got much money, and it would +be very convenient to visit somebody. Perhaps you could lend me five +dollars?" + +"I don't think I could. I think I shall have to say good-morning." + +"I can't make anything out of him," said Jim to himself, +philosophically. "I wonder if he's got any money. Uncle Socrates told me +his uncle had cast him off." + +Going up Broadway instead of down, it was not long before Jim met Allan +Roscoe and Guy, whom he immediately recognized. Not being troubled with +immodesty, he at once walked up to Mr. Roscoe and held out his hand. + +"Good-morning, Mr. Roscoe!" he said, in an ingratiating voice. + +"Good-morning, young man. Where have I met you?" asked Allan Roscoe, +puzzled. + +"At Smith Institute. I am the nephew of Mr. Smith." + +"What! Not the nephew who--" + +Mr. Roscoe found it hard to finish the sentence. He didn't like to +charge Jim with stealing to his face. + +"I know what you mean," said Jim, boldly. "I am the one whom your nephew +charged with taking money which he took himself. I don't want to +say anything against him, as he is your nephew, but he is an artful +young--but no matter. You are his uncle." + +"He is not my nephew, but was only cared for by my brother," said Allan +Roscoe. "You may tell me freely, my good fellow, all the truth. You say +that Hector stole the money which your uncle lost." + +"Yes; but he has made my uncle believe that I took it. It is hard upon +me," said Jim, pathetically, "as I was dependent upon my uncle. I have +been driven forth into the cold world by my benefactor because your +nephew prejudiced his mind against me." + +"I believe him, papa," said Guy, who was only too glad to believe +anything against Hector. "I have thought all along that Hector was +guilty." + +"Is that your son?" asked the crafty Jim. "I wish he had come to the +institute, instead of Hector. He is a boy that I couldn't help liking." + +There are few who are altogether inaccessible to flattery. At any rate, +Guy was not one of this small number. + +"I feel sure you are not guilty," said Guy, regarding Jim graciously. +"It was a very mean thing in Hector to get you into trouble." + +"It was, indeed," said Jim. "I am cast out of my uncle's house, and now +I have no home, and hardly any money." + +"Hector is in the city. Have you seen him?" asked Allan Roscoe. + +"Yes; I met him a few minutes since." + +"Did you speak to him?" + +"Yes; I reproached him for getting me into trouble, but he only laughed +in my face. He told me he hated you both," added Jim, ingenuously. + +"Just like Hector!" said Guy. "What have I always told you, papa?" + +"I am sorry you have suffered such injustice at the hands of anyone in +any way connected with my family," said Mr. Roscoe, who, like Guy, was +not indisposed to believe anything to the discredit of Hector. "I do +not feel responsible for his unworthy acts, but I am willing to show my +sympathy by a small gift." + +He produced a five-dollar note and put it into Jim's ready hand. + +"Thank you, sir," he said. "You are a gentleman." + +So the interview closed, and Jim left the spot, chuckling at the manner +in which he had wheedled so respectable a sum out of Allan Roscoe. + +Meanwhile Hector, after looking about him, turned, and, getting into +a Broadway stage, rode uptown as far as Twenty-third Street, where +the stage turned down toward Sixth Avenue. He concluded to walk the +remainder of the way. + +As he was walking up Madison Avenue, his attention was drawn to a little +girl in charge of a nursemaid. The latter met an acquaintance and forgot +her charge. The little girl, left to herself, attempted to cross the +street just as a private carriage was driven rapidly up the avenue. The +driver was looking away, and it seemed as if, through the double neglect +of the driver and the nurse, the poor child would be crushed beneath the +hoofs of the horses and the wheels of the carriage. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX. A BRAVE DEED. + + + +Hector's heart stood still as he realized the peril of the child. He +dashed forward on the impulse of the moment, and barely succeeded in +catching up the little girl and drawing her back out of harm's way. +The driver, who had done his best to rein up his horses, but without +success, ejaculated with fervent gratitude, for he, too, had a child of +his own about the age of the little girl, "God bless you, boy." + +The little girl seemed less concerned than anyone of the spectators. She +put her hand confidently in Hector's, and said: "Take me to Mary." + +"And who is Mary?" asked Hector, kindly. + +He did not require an answer, for the nurse, who, rather late in the +day, had awakened to the fact that her charge was in danger, came +running forward, crying: "Oh! Miss Gracie, what made you run away?" + +"The little girl would have been killed but for this boy's timely help," +said a middle-aged spectator, gravely. + +"I'm sure I don't know what possessed her to run away," said Mary, +confusedly. + +"She wouldn't if she had been properly looked after," said the +gentleman, sharply, for he had children of his own. + +Hector was about to release the child, now that he had saved her, but +she was not disposed to let him go. + +"You go with me, too!" she said. + +She was a pretty child, with a sweet face, rimmed round by golden curls, +her round, red cheeks glowing with exercise. + +"What is her name?" asked Hector, of the nurse. + +"Grace Newman," answered the nurse, who felt the necessity of saying +something in her own defense. "She's a perfect little runaway. She +worries my life out running round after her." + +"Grace Newman!" said the middle-aged gentleman already referred to. +"Why, she must be the child of my friend, Titus Newman, of Pearl +Street." + +"Yes, sir," said the nurse. + +"My old friend little knows what a narrow escape his daughter has had." + +"I hope you won't tell him, sir," said Mary, nervously. + +"Why not?" + +"Because he would blame me." + +"And so he ought!" said the gentleman, nodding vigorously. "It's no +merit of yours that she wasn't crushed beneath the wheels of that +carriage. If you had been attending to your duty, she wouldn't have been +in danger." + +"I don't see as it's any business of yours," said Mary, pertly. "You +ain't her father, or her uncle." + +"I am a father, and have common humanity," said the gentleman, "and I +consider you unfit for your place." + +"Come along, Grace!" said Mary, angry at being blamed. "You've behaved +very badly, and I'm going to take you home." + +"Won't you come, too?" asked the little girl, turning to Hector. + +"No, there's no call for him to come," said the nurse, pulling the child +away. + +"Good-by, Gracie," said Hector, kindly. + +"Good-by!" responded the child. + +"These nursemaids neglect their charges criminally," said the gentleman, +directing his remarks to Hector. "Mr. Newman owes his child's safety, +perhaps her life, to your prompt courage." + +"She was in great danger," said Hector. "I was afraid at first I could +not save her." + +"A second later and it would have been too late. What is your name, my +brave young friend?" + +"Hector Roscoe, sir." + +"It is a good name. Do you live in the city?" + +"At present I do, sir. I was brought up in the country." + +"Going to school, I take it." + +"I am looking for a place, sir." + +"I wish I had one to give you. I retired from business two years since, +and have no employment for anyone." + +"Thank you, sir; I should have liked to serve you." + +"But I'll tell you what, my young friend, I have a considerable +acquaintance among business men. If you will give me your address, I may +have something to communicate to you ere long." + +"Thank you, sir." + +Hector drew a card from his pocket, and added to it the number of Mr. +Ross' house. + +"I am much obliged to you for your kind offer," he said. + +"You don't look as if you stood in need of employment," said the +gentleman, noticing the fine material of which Hector's suit was made. + +"Appearances are sometimes deceitful," said Hector, half smiling. + +"You must have been brought up in affluence," said Mr. Davidson, for +this was his name. + +"Yes, sir, I was. Till recently I supposed myself rich." + +"You shall tell me the story some time; now I must leave you." + +"Well," thought Hector, as he made his way homeward, "I have had +adventures enough for one morning." + +When Hector reached the house in Forty-second Street, he found Walter +just rising from his lessons. + +"Well, Hector, what have you been doing?" asked Walter. + +"Wandering about the city." + +"Did you see anybody you knew while doing so?" + +"Oh, yes! I was particularly favored. I saw Allan Roscoe and Guy--" + +"You don't say so! Were they glad to see you?" + +"Not particularly. When Guy learned that I was staying here, he proposed +to call and make your acquaintance." + +"I hope you didn't encourage him," said Walter, with a grimace. + +"No; I told him that we were generally out in the afternoon." + +"That is right." + +"I suppose you have been hard at work, Walter?" + +"Ask Mr. Crabb." + +"Walter has done very well," said the usher. "If he will continue to +study as well, I shall have no fault to find." + +"If I do, will you qualify me to be a professor in twelve months' time?" + +"I hope not, for in that case I should lose my scholar, and have to bow +to his superior knowledge." + +"Then you don't know everything, Mr. Crabb?" + +"Far from it! I hope your father didn't engage me in any such illusion." + +"Because," said Walter, "I had one teacher who pretended to know all +there was worth knowing. I remember how annoyed he was once when I +caught him in a mistake in geography." + +"I shall not be annoyed at all when you find me out in a mistake, for I +don't pretend to be very learned." + +"Then I think we'll get along," said Walter, favorably impressed by the +usher's modesty. + +"I suppose if I didn't know anything we should get along even better," +said Mr. Crabb, amused. + +"Well, perhaps that might be carrying things too far!" Walter admitted. + +In the afternoon Hector and Walter spent two hours at the gymnasium in +Twenty-eighth Street, and walked leisurely home after a healthful amount +of exercise. + +For some reason, which he could not himself explain, Hector said nothing +to Walter about his rescue of the little girl on Madison Avenue, though +he heard of it at the gymnasium. + +One of the boys, Henry Carroll, said to Walter: "There was a little girl +came near being run over on Madison Avenue this noon!" + +"Did you see it?" + +"No, but I heard of it." + +"Who was the little girl?" + +"Grace Newman." + +"I know who she is. How did it happen?" + +The boy gave a pretty correct account. + +"Some boy saved her," he concluded, "by running forward and hauling her +out of the road just in time. He ran the risk of being run over himself. +Mr. Newman thinks everything of little Grace. I'd like to be in that +boy's shoes." + +Neither of the boys noticed that Hector's face was flushed, as he +listened to the account of his own exploit. + +The next morning, among the letters laid upon the breakfast table was +one for Hector Roscoe. + +"A letter for you, Hector," said Mr. Ross, examining the envelope in +some surprise. "Are you acquainted with Titus Newman, the Pearl Street +merchant?" + +"No, sir," answered Hector, in secret excitement. + +"He seems to have written to you," said Mr. Ross. + +Hector took the letter and tore open the envelope. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI. AN IMPORTANT LETTER. + + + +The letter alluded to in the last chapter ran thus. It was written from +Mr. Newman's house in Madison Avenue, though inclosed in a business +envelope: + +"MASTER HECTOR ROSCOE: I learn that I am indebted to you for the rescue +of my little daughter from imminent peril during my absence from home +yesterday. A friend who witnessed her providential escape has given me +such an account of your bravery in risking your own life to save that of +an unknown child, that I cannot rest till I have had an opportunity +of thanking you in person. You will do me a favor, if not otherwise +engaged, if you will call at my house this evening, about eight o'clock. +Yours gratefully, + +"Titus NEWMAN." + +It is needless to say that Hector read this letter with feelings of +gratification. It is true, as we are often told, that "virtue is its own +reward," but it is, nevertheless, pleasant to feel that our efforts to +do well and serve others are appreciated. + +"No bad news, I hope, Hector?" said Walter. + +"No," answered Hector. "You may read the letter, if you like, Mr. Ross." + +Mr. Ross did so, and aloud, much to the surprise of everyone at table. + +"You did not tell me of this," said Walter, in astonishment. + +"No," answered Hector, smiling. + +"But why not?" + +"Because Hector is modest," Mr. Ross answered for him. "Now, if you had +done such a thing, Walter, we should have been sure to hear of it." + +"I don't know," returned Walter, comically. "You don't know how many +lives I have saved within the last few years." + +"Nor anyone else, I fancy," replied his father. "By the way, Hector, +there is a paragraph about it in the Herald of this morning. I read +it, little suspecting that you were the boy whose name the reporter was +unable to learn." + +Hector read the paragraph in question with excusable pride. It was, in +the main, correct. + +"How old was the little girl?" asked Walter. + +"Four years old, I should think." + +"That isn't quite so romantic as if she had been three times as old." + +"I couldn't have rescued her quite as easily, in that case." + +Of course, Hector was called upon for an account of the affair, which +he gave plainly, without adding any of those embellishments which some +boys, possibly some of my young readers, might have been tempted to put +in. + +"You are fortunate to have obliged a man like Titus Newman, Hector," +said Mr. Ross. "He is a man of great wealth and influence." + +"Do you know him, papa?" asked Walter. + +"No--that is, not at all well. I have been introduced to him." + +Punctually at eight o'clock Hector ascended the steps of a handsome +residence on Madison Avenue. The door was opened by a colored servant, +of imposing manners. + +"Is Mr. Newman at home?" asked Hector, politely. + +"Yes, sar." + +"Be kind enough to hand him this card?" + +"Yes, sar." + +Presently the servant reappeared, saying: + +"Mr. Newman will see you, sar, in the library. I will induct you +thither." + +"Thank you," answered Hector, secretly amused at the airs put on by his +sable conductor. + +Seated at a table, in a handsomely furnished library, sat a stout +gentleman of kindly aspect. He rose quickly from his armchair and +advanced to meet our hero. + +"I am glad to see you, my young friend," he said. "Sit there," pointing +to a smaller armchair opposite. "So you are the boy who rescued my dear +little girl?" + +His voice softened as he uttered these last few words, and it was easy +to see how strong was the paternal love that swelled his heart. + +"I was fortunate in having the opportunity, Mr. Newman." + +"You have rendered me a service I can never repay. When I think that but +for you the dear child--" his voice faltered. + +"Don't think of it, Mr. Newman," said Hector, earnestly. "I don't like +to think of it myself." + +"And you exposed yourself to great danger, my boy!" + +"I suppose I did, sir; but that did not occur to me at the time. It was +all over in an instant." + +"I see you are modest, and do not care to take too great credit to +yourself, but I shall not rest till I have done something to express my +sense of your noble courage. Now, I am a man of business, and it is my +custom to come to the point directly. Is there any way in which I can +serve you." + +"Yes, sir." + +"I am glad to hear it. Name it." + +"I am looking for a situation in some mercantile establishment, Mr. +Newman." + +"Pardon me, but, judging from your appearance, I should not suppose that +it was a matter of importance to you." + +"Yes, sir; I am poor." + +"You don't look so." + +"You judge from my dress, no doubt"--Hector was attired in a suit of +fine texture--"I suppose I may say," he added, with a smile, "that I +have seen better days." + +"Surely, you are young to have met with reverses, if that is what you +mean to imply," the merchant remarked, observing our hero with some +curiosity. + +"Yes, sir; if you have time, I will explain to you how it happened." + +As the story has already been told, I will not repeat Hector's words. + +Mr. Newman listened with unaffected interest. + +"It is certainly a curious story," he said. "Did you, then, quietly +surrender your claims to the estate simply upon your uncle's unsupported +assertion?" + +"I beg pardon, sir. He showed me my father's--that is, Mr. +Roscoe's--letter." + +"Call him your father, for I believe he was." + +"Do you, sir?" asked Hector, eagerly. + +"I do. Your uncle's story looks like an invention. Let me think, was +your father's name Edward Roscoe?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"And in what year were you born?" + +"In the year 1856." + +"At Sacramento?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Then I feel quite sure that I made your father's acquaintance in the +succeeding year, and your own as well, though you were an infant--that +is, you were less than a year old." + +"Did my father say anything of having adopted me?" + +"No; on the contrary, he repeatedly referred to you as his child, and +your mother also displayed toward you an affection which would have been +at least unusual if you had not been her own child." + +"Then you think, sir--" Hector began. + +"I think that your uncle's story is a mere fabrication. He has contrived +a snare in which you have allowed yourself to be enmeshed." + +"I am only a boy, sir. I supposed there was nothing for me to do but to +yield possession of the estate when my uncle showed me the letter." + +"It was natural enough; and your uncle doubtless reckoned upon your +inexperience and ignorance of the law." + +"What would you advise me to do, sir?" + +"Let me think." + +The merchant leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes, and gave himself +up to reflection. In the midst of his reverie the pompous servant +entered, bringing a letter upon a silver salver. + +"A letter, sar," he said. + +"That will do. You can go, Augustus." + +"Yes, sar." + +Mr. Newman glanced at the postmark, tore open the letter, read it with a +frown, and then, as if he had suddenly formed a resolution, he said: + +"This letter has helped me to a decision." + +Hector regarded him with surprise. What could the letter have to do with +him? + +"Have you any objection to going out to California by the next steamer?" +asked Mr. New-man. + +"No, sir," answered Hector, with animation "Am I to go alone?" + +"Yes, alone." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII. A WAYWARD YOUTH. + + + +It is needless to say that Hector was very much surprised, not to say +startled, at this sudden proposal. What could Mr. Newman possibly want +him to go to California for? If on business, how did it happen that he +trusted a mere boy with so responsible a mission? + +The explanation came soon. + +"No doubt, you are surprised," said the merchant, "at the proposal I +have made you. I am not prepared myself to say that I am acting with +good judgment. In making it, I have obeyed a sudden impulse, which +is not always prudent. Yet, in more than one instance, I have found +advantage in obeying such an impulse. But to my explanation. By the way, +let me first ask you two or three questions. Have you any taste for any +kind of liquor?" + +"No, sir," answered Hector, promptly. + +"Even if you had, do you think you would have self-control enough to +avoid entering saloons and gratifying your tastes?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"That is well. Do you play pool?" + +"No, sir," answered Hector, wondering whither all these questions +tended. + +"I ask because playing pool in public rooms paves the way for +intemperance, as bars are generally connected with such establishments." + +"I don't even know how to play pool, sir," said Hector. + +"Do you ever bet or gamble?" continued the merchant. + +"No, sir." + +"You will understand why I ask all these questions when I tell you that +I have a nephew now nineteen years of age, who does all these things. He +is not only my nephew, but my ward. I have a moderate sum of money in my +charge which belongs to him--enough, if he were a young man of correct +habits, to buy him an interest in a respectable business. That use I +had proposed to make of it when he reached twenty-one, or rather, to +recommend to him, but for his yielding to temptation in more than one +form, and, finally, running away from my protection." + +"Where is he now, sir?" + +"In California. Three months since he disappeared, and it was some +weeks before I learned where he had gone. As I do not intend to conceal +anything from you, I must tell you that he carried with him five hundred +dollars purloined from my desk. This grieved me most of all. I wrote out +to a mercantile friend in San Francisco, who knows the boy by sight, to +hunt him up, and see if he could do anything for him. He writes +me--this is the letter I hold in my hand--that he has seen Gregory, and +expostulated with him, but apparently without effect. The boy has pretty +much run through his money, and will soon be in need. I do not intend, +however, to send him money, for he would misuse it. I don't think +it will do him any harm to suffer a little privation, as a fitting +punishment for his wayward courses. I would not wish him to suffer too +much, and I am anxious lest he should go further astray. I now come to +the explanation of my proposal to you. I wish you to go to California, +to seek out Gregory, obtain his confidence, and then persuade him to +give up his bad course, and come home with you, prepared to lead a +worthier life. Are you willing to undertake it?" + +"Yes, sir," answered Hector. "I will undertake it, since you are willing +to place such a responsibility upon me. I will do my best to accomplish +what you desire, but I may fail." + +"In that case I will not blame you," answered the merchant. + +"What sort of a boy is Gregory? Shall I find it difficult to gain his +confidence?" + +"No; he is a youth of very amiable disposition--indeed, he was generally +popular among his companions and associates, but he is morally weak, and +finds it difficult to cope with temptation. I believe that a boy like +you will stand a better chance of influencing him than a man of mature +age." + +"I will do my best, sir." + +"One thing more. You may assure Gregory that I forgive him the theft of +my money, though it gave me great pain to find him capable of such an +act, and that I am prepared to receive him back into my favor if he will +show himself worthy of it. I will give you a letter to that effect. Now, +when will you be ready to start?" + +"By the next steamer." + +"That is well." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII. MR. ROSCOE MAKES A DISCOVERY. + + + +The California steamer was to start in two days. This gave Hector but +little time for preparation, but then he had but scanty preparation to +make. Mr. Ross and Walter were naturally surprised at the confidence +placed in Hector by a stranger, but were inclined to think that our hero +would prove himself worthy of it. + +"Don't be gone long, Hector," said Walter. "I shall miss you. I depended +upon having your company for a good while yet." + +"Come back to my house, Hector," said Mr. Ross, cordially, "when you +return, whether you are successful or not. Consider it a home where you +are always welcome." + +"Thank you, sir," said Hector, gratefully. "I wish you were my uncle +instead of Mr. Allan Roscoe." + +"By the way, Hector, take time, while you are in California, to go to +Sacramento to see if you can learn anything of your early history. It is +most important to you, and I'm sure Mr. Newman will not object." + +"He has already suggested it to me," said Hector. "Moreover, he has +given me the name of the minister who baptized me, and, should he +be dead or removed, he has given me the name of another person--a +lady--with whom my father boarded during his residence in Sacramento." + +"It is to be hoped that one or the other of these persons may still be +living. It will afford me sincere pleasure if, by reliable testimony, +you can defeat the wicked conspiracy into which Mr. Roscoe has entered, +with the object of defrauding you of your inheritance." + +Hector's ticket was purchased by Mr. Newman, and he was provided with +a considerable sum of money as well as an order upon a bank in San +Francisco for as much more as he might need. + +"You are trusting me to an unusual extent, Mr. Newman," said Hector. + +"That is true, but I have no hesitation in doing so. I am a close +observer, and, though I have seen but little of you, I have seen enough +to inspire me with confidence." + +"I hope I shall deserve it, sir." + +"That depends upon yourself, so far as integrity and fidelity go. +Whether you succeed or not in your undertaking depends partly upon +circumstances." + +My young readers may wonder how Hector would be expected to recognize a +young man whom he had never seen. He was provided with a photograph of +Gregory, which had been taken but six months before, and which, as Mr. +Newman assured him, bore a strong resemblance to his nephew. + +"He may have changed his name," he said, "but he cannot change his face. +With this picture you will be able to identify him." + +The great steamer started on her long voyage. Walter and Mr. Crabb +stood on the pier and watched it till Hector's face was no longer +distinguishable for the distance, and then went home, each feeling that +he had sustained a loss. + +Among those who watched the departure of the steamer was a person who +escaped Hector's notice, for he arrived just too late to bid good-by to +an acquaintance who was a passenger on board. + +This person was no other than Allan Roscoe. + +When he recognized Hector's face among the passengers he started in +surprise and alarm. + +"Hector Roscoe going to California!" he inwardly ejaculated. "What can +be his object, and where did he raise money to go?" + +Conscience whispered: "He has gone to ferret out the fraud which you +have practiced upon him, and his mission is fraught with peril to you." + +Allan Roscoe returned to his elegant home in a state of nervous +agitation, which effectually prevented him from enjoying the luxuries +he was now able to command. A sword seemed suspended over him, but +he resolved not to give up the large stake for which he played so +recklessly without a further effort. + +By the next mail he wrote a confidential letter to an old acquaintance in +San Francisco. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV. FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF SAN FRANCISCO. + + + +Hector was seasick for the first twenty-four hours, but at the end of +that time he had become accustomed to the rise and fall of the billows, +and was prepared to enjoy himself as well as he could in the confined +quarters of an ocean steamer. + +Of course, he made acquaintances. Among them was a clergyman, of middle +age, who was attracted by our hero's frank countenance. They met +on deck, and took together the "constitutional" which travelers on +shipboard find essential for their health. + +"You seem to be alone?" said the clergyman. + +"Yes, sir." + +"Pardon me, but it is uncommon to meet one so young as yourself who +is making so long a journey. I suppose, however, you have friends or +relatives in California." + +"No, sir; I know no one, to my knowledge, in the Golden State." + +"Then, perhaps, you go out in search of employment?" + +"No, sir; I go out on business." + +"You are a young business man," said the clergyman, smiling. + +"Perhaps I should rather say, on a mission. I am sent out, by a New York +merchant, in search of his nephew, who is somewhere in San Francisco." + +Hector explained himself further. The minister, Mr. Richards, listened +with attention. + +"Certainly," he said, "a great responsibility rests upon you. Mr. Newman +must have great confidence in you." + +"I hope he will not find it misplaced," answered Hector, modestly. + +"It is certainly a compliment to you that a shrewd business man should +consider you worthy of such confidence. The presumption is that he has +good reason for his confidence. I think, my young friend, that you will +enjoy your visit to our State." + +"Then you reside there, sir?" + +"Oh, yes. I went out twenty years since; in fact, just after I graduated +from the theological school. I spent a year at the mines; but, at the +end of that time, finding an opening in my profession, I accepted the +charge of a church in Sacramento." + +"In Sacramento?" exclaimed Hector, eagerly. + +"Yes. Have you any associations with that city?" + +"It is my birthplace, sir." + +"Then you are not a stranger to California?" + +"Yes, sir; I came away so early that I have no recollection of the +place." + +"What is your name?" asked the clergyman. + +"Hector Roscoe." + +"Roscoe? The name sounds familiar to me," said the minister, +thoughtfully. + +"How long since you went to Sacramento, Mr. Richards?" + +"I went there in 1855." + +"And I was born there in 1856. My father and mother lived there for some +time afterwards." + +"It is probable that I met them, for Sacramento was a small place then. +Shall you go there?" + +"Yes, sir. I have a special reason for going--a reason most important to +me." + +As Mr. Richards naturally looked inquisitive, Hector confided in him +further. + +"You see, sir," he concluded, "that it is most important to me to +ascertain whether I am really the son of the man whom I have always +regarded as my father. If so, I am heir to a large fortune. If not, my +uncle is the heir, and I certainly should not wish to disturb him in the +enjoyment of what the law awards him." + +"That is quite proper," said Mr. Richards. "In your investigation, it +is quite possible that I may be able to help you materially, through my +long residence and extensive acquaintance in Sacramento. When you come +there, lose no time in calling upon me. Whatever help I can render you +shall cheerfully be given." + +"Thank you, sir." + +"Shall you be much disappointed if you find that you are only the +adopted, instead of the real, son of Mr. Roscoe?" + +"Yes, sir; but it won't be chiefly on account of the property. I shall +feel alone in the world, without relations or family connections, with +no one to sympathize with me in my successes, or feel for me in my +disappointments." + +"I understand you, and I can enter into your feelings." + +Arrived in San Francisco, Hector took lodgings at a comfortable hotel on +Kearney Street. He didn't go to the Palace Hotel, or Baldwin's, though +Mr. Newman had supplied him with ample funds, and instructed him to +spend whatever he thought might be necessary. + +"I mean to show myself worthy of his confidence," said Hector to +himself. + +He arrived in the evening, and was glad to remain quietly at the hotel +the first evening, and sleep off the effects of his voyage. After +the contracted stateroom, in which he had passed over twenty days, +he enjoyed the comfort and luxury of a bed on shore and a good-sized +bedroom. But, in the morning, he took a long walk, which was full of +interest. Less than five minutes' walk from his hotel was the noted +Chinese quarter. Curiously enough, it is located in the central part +of the business portion of San Francisco. Set a stranger down in this +portion of the city, and the traveler finds it easy to imagine himself +in some Chinese city. All around him, thronging the sidewalks, he will +see almond-eyed men, wearing long queues, and clad in the comfortable, +but certainly not elegant, flowing garments which we meet only +occasionally in our Eastern cities, on the person of some laundryman. +Then the houses, too, with the curious names on the signs, speak of a +far-off land. On every side, also, is heard the uncouth jargon of the +Chinese tongue. + +There is a part of San Francisco that is known as the Barbary Coast. It +is that part which strangers will do well to avoid, for it is the haunt +of the worst portion of the population. Here floats many a hopeless +wreck, in the shape of a young man, who has yielded to the seductions of +drink and the gaming table--who has lost all hope and ambition, and is +fast nearing destruction. + +If Hector allowed himself to explore this quarter, it was not because +he found anything to attract him, for his tastes were healthy, but he +thought, from the description of Gregory Newman, that he would stand a +better chance of meeting him here than in a more respectable quarter. + +Hector halted in front of a building, which he judged to be a gambling +house. He did not care to enter, but he watched, with curiosity, those +who entered and those who came out. + +As he was standing there, a man of forty touched him on the shoulder. + +Hector turned, and was by no means attracted by the man's countenance. +He was evidently a confirmed inebriate, though not at that time under +the influence of liquor. There was an expression of cunning, which +repelled Hector, and he drew back. + +"I say, boy," said the stranger, "do you want to go in?" + +"No, sir." + +"If you do, I know the ropes, and I'll introduce you and take care of +you." + +"Thank you," said Hector, "but I don't care to go in." + +"Are you afraid?" asked the man, with a slight sneer. + +"Yes. Haven't I a reason?" + +"Come, sonny, don't be foolish. Have you any money?" + +"A little." + +"Give it to me and I'll play for you. I'll double it in ten minutes, and +I'll only ask you five dollars for my services." + +"Suppose you lose?" + +"I won't lose," said the man, confidently. "Come," he said, in a +wheedling tone, "let me make some money for you." + +"Thank you, but I would rather not. I don't want to make money in any +such way." + +"You're a fool!" said the man, roughly, and with an air of disgust he +left the spot, much to Hector's relief. + +Still Hector lingered, expecting he hardly knew what, but it chanced +that fortune favored him. He was just about to turn away, when a youth, +two or three years older than himself in appearance, came out of the +gambling house. He was pale, and looked as if he had kept late hours. He +had the appearance, also, of one who indulges in drink. + +When Hector's glance fell upon the face of the youth, he started in +great excitement. + +"Surely," he thought, "that must be Gregory Newman!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXXV. THE PRODIGAL. + + + +As the best way of getting into communication with the youth whom he +suspected to be the object of his search, Hector asked him the name of +the street. + +On receiving an answer, he said, in an explanatory way: + +"I am a stranger here. I only arrived on the last steamer." + +The other looked interested. + +"Where do you come from?" + +"From New York." + +"I used to live there," said Gregory--for it was he--with a sigh. + +"Have you bettered yourself by coming out here?" asked Hector. + +Gregory shook his head. + +"No," he said; "I begin to think I was a fool to come at all." + +"Perhaps you had poor prospects in New York?" said Hector. + +"No; my uncle is a rich merchant there. I have some property, also, and +he is my guardian." + +"Did he favor your coming?" + +"No; he was very much opposed to it." + +"Perhaps I ought not to take such a liberty, but I begin to agree with +you about your being a fool to leave such prospects behind you." + +"Oh, I am not offended. It is true enough." + +"I suppose you haven't prospered, then," said Hector. + +"Prospered? Look at me! Do you see how shabby I am?" + +Gregory certainly did look shabby. His clothes were soiled and frayed, +and he had the appearance of a young tramp. + +"That isn't the worst of it," he added, bitterly. "I have spent my last +cent, and am penniless." + +"That is bad, certainly. Did you lose any of it in there?" said Hector, +indicating the gaming house. + +"I have lost full half of it there," answered Gregory. "This morning I +found myself reduced to four bits--" + +"To what?" inquired Hector, puzzled. + +"Oh, I forgot you had just arrived. Four bits is fifty cents. Well, I +was reduced to that, and, instead of saving it for my dinner, I went in +there and risked it. If I had been lucky, I might have raised it to ten +dollars, as a man next to me did; but I'm out of luck, and I don't know +what to do." + +"Why don't you go back to your uncle in New York?" + +"What! and walk all the way without food?" said Gregory, bitterly. + +"Of course you couldn't go without money. Suppose you had the money, +would you go?" + +"I should be afraid to try it," said Gregory, smiling. + +"Why? Don't you think he would receive you back?" + +"He might but for one thing," answered Gregory. + +"What is that?" + +"I may as well tell you, though I am ashamed to," said Gregory, +reluctantly. "I left New York without his knowledge, and, as I knew he +wouldn't advance me money out of my own property, I took five hundred +dollars from his desk." + +"That was bad," said Hector, quietly, but he didn't look shocked or +terror-stricken, for this would probably have prevented any further +confidence. + +"It wasn't exactly stealing," said Gregory, apologetically, "for I knew +he could keep back the money from my property. Still, he could represent +it as such and have me arrested." + +"I don't think he would do that." + +"I don't want to run the risk. You see now why I don't dare to go back +to New York. But what on earth I am to do here I don't know." + +"Couldn't you get employment?" asked Hector, for he wished Gregory to +understand his position fully. + +"What! in this shabby suit? Respectable business men would take me for a +hoodlum." + +Hector knew already that a "hoodlum" in San Francisco parlance is a term +applied to street loafers from fifteen to twenty-five years of age, who +are disinclined to work and have a premature experience of vice. + +"Suppose you were assured that your uncle would receive you back and +give you another chance?" + +Gregory shook his head. + +"I don't believe he would, and I am afraid I don't deserve it. No, +I must try to get to the mines in some way. How are you fixed?" said +Gregory, turning suddenly to Hector. "Could you spare a five-dollar gold +piece for a chap that's been unfortunate?" + +"Perhaps I might; but I am afraid you would go back into the gambling +house and lose it, as you did your other money." + +"No, I won't; I promise you that. Four bits was nothing. Five dollars +would give me a chance of going somewhere where I could earn a living." + +Gregory seemed to speak sincerely, and Hector thought it would do him no +harm to reveal himself and his errand. + +"Your name is Gregory Newman, isn't it?" he inquired. + +Gregory stared at him in uncontrollable amazement. + +"How do you know that?" he inquired. + +"And your uncle's name is Titus Newman?" + +"Yes, but--" + +"He lives on Madison Avenue, does he not?" + +"Yes, yes; but who are you that seem to know so much about me?" + +"My name is Hector Roscoe." + +"Did I know you in New York?" + +"No; I never met you, to my knowledge." + +"Then how do you recognize me and know my name?" + +In answer, Hector took from his pocket a photograph of Gregory and +displayed it. + +"How did you come by that?" asked Gregory, hurriedly. "Are you a +detective?" + +Gregory looked so startled that Hector had hard work not to laugh. It +seemed ludicrous to him that he should be supposed to be a detective on +Gregory's track, as the boy evidently suspected. + +"No," he answered, "I am not a detective, but a friend. I have come out +to San Francisco especially to find you." + +"You won't inform against me?" asked Gregory, nervously. + +"Not at all. I come as a friend, with a message from your uncle---" + +"What is it?" asked Gregory, eagerly. + +"He wants you to come back to New York, and he will give you another +chance." + +"Is this true?" + +"Yes; will you come?" + +"I shall be glad to leave San Francisco," said Gregory, fervently. "I +have had no luck since I arrived here." + +"Do you think you deserved any?" said Hector, significantly. + +"No, perhaps not," Gregory admitted. + +"When will you be ready to return?" + +"You forget that I have no money." + +"I have, and will pay your passage." + +Gregory grasped the hands of our hero gratefully. + +"You are a trump!" said he. + +Then he looked at his wretched and dilapidated suit. + +"I don't like to go home like this," he said. "I should be mortified if +I met my uncle or any of my old acquaintances." + +"Oh, that can be remedied," said Hector. "If you can lead the way to a +good clothing house, where the prices are moderate, I will soon improve +your appearance." + +"That I will!" answered Gregory, gladly. + +Within five minutes' walk was a good clothing house, on Kearney Street. +The two entered, and a suit was soon found to fit Gregory. Then they +obtained a supply of underclothing, and Gregory breathed a sigh of +satisfaction. His self-respect returned, and he felt once more like his +old self. + +"Now," said Hector, "I shall take you to my hotel, and enter your name +as a guest. You and I can room together." + +"Do you know," said Gregory, "I almost fear this is a dream, and that +I shall wake up again a tramp, as you found me half an hour ago? I was +almost in despair when you met me." + +Though Gregory seemed quite in earnest in his desire to turn over a new +leaf, Hector thought it prudent to keep the funds necessary for their +journey in his own possession. He gave a few dollars to Gregory as +spending money, but disregarded any hints looking to a further advance. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI. HOW HECTOR SUCCEEDED IN SACRAMENTO. + + + +Now that Hector had succeeded in the main object of his journey, he had +time to think of his own affairs. It was most important for him to visit +Sacramento and make inquiries into the matter that so nearly concerned +him. + +"I must find out," he said to himself, "whether I am entitled to the +name I bear, or whether I only received it by adoption." + +The second day after his discovery of Gregory Newman, he said to him: + +"Gregory, business of importance calls me to Sacramento. Do you wish to +go with me?" + +"Does the business in any way relate to me?" asked Gregory. + +"Not at all." + +"Then I prefer to remain in San Francisco." + +"Can I trust you not to fall back into your old ways?" asked Hector. + +"Yes; I have had enough of them," answered Gregory, and there was a +sincerity in his tone which convinced Hector that he might safely leave +him. + +"I shall probably stay overnight," he said. "If I stay any longer, I +will telegraph to you." + +Arrived in Sacramento, Hector sought out the residence of the Rev. Mr. +Richards, whose acquaintance he had made on board the steamer. + +His clerical friend received him with evident pleasure. + +"How have you fared, my young friend?" he asked. + +"Very well, sir. I have succeeded in my mission." + +"Then you have found the youth you were in search of?" + +"Yes, sir; moreover, I have induced him to return home with me, and turn +over a new leaf." + +"That is indeed good news. And now, I think I have also good news for +you." + +"Please let me know it, sir," said Hector, eagerly. + +"I have found the lady with whom your father and mother boarded while +they were in Sacramento." + +"What does she say?" + +"She says," answered Mr. Richards, promptly, "that you are Mr. Roscoe's +own son, and were born in her house." + +"Thank Heaven!" ejaculated Hector. + +"Nor is this all. I have found the minister who baptized you. He is +still living, at a very advanced age--the Rev. Mr. Barnard. I called +upon him, and recalled his attention to the period when your father +lived in the city. I found that he remembered both your parents very +well. Not only that, but he has a very full diary covering that time, in +which he showed me this record: + +"'Baptized, June 17th, Hector, the son of Thomas and Martha Roscoe; a +bright, healthy child, in whom the parents much delight." + +"Then it seems to me," said Hector, "that my case is a very strong one." + +"Unusually so. In fact, it could not be stronger. I marvel how Allan +Roscoe, your uncle, could have ventured upon a fraud which could be so +easily proved to be such." + +"He depended upon Sacramento being so far away," said Hector. "He +thought I would accept my father's letter without question." + +"That letter was undoubtedly forged," said the minister. + +"It must have been, but it was very cleverly forged. The handwriting +was a very close copy of my father's." It was a great pleasure to Hector +that he could say "my father" without a moment's doubt that he was +entitled to say so. + +"He thought, also, that you would not have the means to come here to +investigate for yourself," said Mr. Richards. + +"Yes, and he would have been right but for the commission Mr. Newman +gave me. What course would you advise me to take," asked Hector, a +little later, "to substantiate my claim?" + +"Get Mrs. Blodgett's and Rev. Mr. Barnard's sworn affidavits, and place +them in the hands of a reliable lawyer, requesting him to communicate +with your uncle." + +This advice seemed to Hector to be wise, and he followed it. +Fortunately, he had no difficulty in inducing both parties to accede to +his request. The next day he returned to San Francisco. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVII. A NARROW ESCAPE. + + + +Armed with the affidavits which were to restore to him the position in +life of which his uncle had wickedly deprived him, Hector returned to +San Francisco. He found Gregory unaffectedly glad to see him. + +"Glad to see you back, Hector," he said; "I missed you." + +Hector was glad to find that Gregory had not taken advantage of his +absence to indulge in any of his old excesses. He began to hope that he +had already turned over the new leaf which was so desirable. + +"I know what you are thinking of," said Gregory, after Hector had +returned his salutation. "You are wondering whether I 'cut up' any while +you were gone." + +"You don't look as if you had," said Hector, smiling. + +"No; I have had enough of sowing wild oats. It doesn't pay. Shall I tell +you what I did last evening?" + +"If you like." + +"I attended a lecture illustrated with the stereopticon. I was in bed at +ten." + +"Gregory," said Hector, taking his hand, "you don't know how glad I am +to hear this. I am sure your uncle will be delighted when you return to +him so changed." + +"I've made a great fool of myself," said Gregory, candidly. "Hereafter I +am going to make you my model." + +Hector blushed deeply, for he was a modest boy. + +"You compliment me too much, Gregory," he said. "Still, if you are in +earnest, I will try to set you a good example." + +"You won't have any trouble in doing that. You are one of the fellows +that find it easy to be good." + +"I am not sure of that, Gregory. Still, I mean to do my best." + +In the evening the two boys attended a theatrical performance. It was +not till after eleven o'clock that they emerged from the theatre, and +slowly, not by the most direct way, sauntered home. + +There was no thought of danger in the mind of either, yet, as a fact, +Hector had never in his life been exposed to peril so serious as that +evening. Lurking behind in the shadow a shabby-looking man followed +the two boys, keeping his eyes steadily on Hector. At a place specially +favorable, our hero was startled by hearing a bullet whiz by his ear. He +turned instantly, and so did Gregory. They saw a man running, and +they pursued him. They might not have caught up with him, but that he +stumbled and fell. Instantly they were upon him. + +"Well," he said, sullenly, "you've caught me after all." + +"Were you the man who fired at me?" asked Hector, "or was it my friend +here you sought to kill?" + +"I was firing at you," answered their captive, coolly. "Now, what are +you going to do with me?" + +"Was this forced upon you by want? Did you wish to rob me?" + +"No; I had another motive." + +"What was it?" + +"If I tell you, will you let me go free?" + +Hector hesitated. + +The man proceeded, speaking with emphasis. + +"If I tell you who put me up to this, and furnish you proofs so that you +can bring it to him, will you let me go?" + +"You will not renew the attempt?" asked Hector. + +"No," answered the man; "it isn't likely; I shall have no further +motive." + +"Yes, I agree." + +"Read that letter, then." + +"There isn't light enough. Will you accompany me to the hotel, where I +can read it?" + +"I will." + +The three walked together to the hotel, where Hector and Gregory were +staying. There Hector read the letter. He was astonished and horrified +when he discovered that it was from his uncle to this man, with whom he +seemed to have an acquaintance, describing Hector, and promising him a +thousand dollars if he would put him out of the way. + +"This is very important," said Hector, gravely. "Are you ready to +accompany me to New York and swear to this?" + +"Yes, if you will pay my expenses." + +By the next steamer Hector, Gregory and the stranger, who called himself +Reuben Pearce, sailed for New York. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVIII. CONCLUSION. + + + +Allan Roscoe sat at the breakfast table with Guy opposite him. Though +Mr. Roscoe was not altogether free from anxiety since he had learned of +Hector's expedition to California, he had taught himself to believe that +there was little chance of the boy's ferreting out the imposition he had +practiced upon him. He had been a poor and struggling man most of his +life, having, when quite a young man, squandered his inheritance, and +his present taste of affluence was most agreeable. He felt that he could +not part with Castle Roscoe. + +"But I am safe enough," he said to himself; "even if Hector discovered +anything, something might happen to him, so that he might be unable to +return." + +"Father," said Guy, who had just dispatched an egg, "I want ten dollars +this morning." + +"Ten dollars!" said his father, frowning. "How is this? Did I not give +you your week's allowance two days since?" + +"Well, I've spent it," answered Guy, "and I need some more." + +"You must think I am made of money," said his father, displeased. + +"It's pretty much so," said Guy, nonchalantly. "Your income must be ten +thousand a year." + +"I have a great many expenses. How have you spent your allowance?" + +"Oh, I can't tell exactly. It's gone, at any rate. You mustn't become +mean, father." + +"Mean! Don't I give you a handsome allowance? Look here, Guy, I can't +allow such extravagance on your part. This once I'll give you five +dollars, but hereafter, you must keep within your allowance." + +"Can't you make it ten?" + +"No, I can't," said his father, shortly. + +Guy rose from the table, and left the room, whistling. + +"The old man's getting mean," he said. "If he doesn't allow me more, I +shall have to get in debt." + +As Guy left the room, the mail was brought in. On one of the envelopes, +Mr. Roscoe saw the name of his lawyer. He did not think much of it, +supposing it related to some minor matter of business. The letter ran +thus: + +"ALLAN ROSCOE, ESQ.: + +"DEAR SIR: Be kind enough to come up to the city at once. Business of +great importance demands your attention. + +"Yours respectfully, TIMOTHY TAPE." + +"Mr. Tape is unusually mysterious," said Allan Roscoe to himself, +shrugging his shoulders. "I will go up to-day. I have nothing to keep me +at home." + +Mr. Roscoe ordered the carriage, and drove to the depot. Guy, noticing +his departure, asked permission to accompany him. + +"Not to-day, Guy," he answered. "I am merely going up to see my lawyer." + +Two hours later Mr. Roscoe entered the office of his lawyer. + +"Well, Tape, what's up?" he asked, in an easy tone. "Your letter was +mysterious." + +"I didn't like to write explicitly," said Mr. Tape, gravely. + +"The matter, you say, is of great importance?" + +"It is, indeed! It is no less than a claim for the whole of your late +brother's estate." + +"Who is the claimant?" asked Allan Roscoe, perturbed. + +"Your nephew, Hector." + +"I have no nephew Hector. The boy called Hector Roscoe is an adopted son +of my brother." + +"I know you so stated. He says he is prepared to prove that he is the +lawful son of the late Mr. Roscoe." + +"He can't prove it!" said Allan Roscoe, turning pale. + +"He has brought positive proof from California, so he says." + +"Has he, then, returned?" asked Allan, his heart sinking. + +"He is in the city, and expects us to meet him at two o'clock this +afternoon, at the office of his lawyer, Mr. Parchment." + +Now, Mr. Parchment was one of the most celebrated lawyers at the New +York bar, and the fact that Hector had secured his services showed Allan +Roscoe that the matter was indeed serious. + +"How could he afford to retain so eminent a lawyer?" asked Allan Roscoe, +nervously. + +"Titus Newman, the millionaire merchant, backs him." + +"Do you think there is anything in his case?" asked Allan, slowly. + +"I can tell better after our interview at two o'clock." + +At five minutes to two Allan Roscoe and Mr. Tape were ushered into the +private office of Mr. Parchment. + +"Glad to see you, gentlemen," said the great lawyer, with his usual +courtesy. + +Two minutes later Hector entered, accompanied by Mr. Newman. Hector +nodded coldly to his uncle. He was not of a vindictive nature, but he +could not forget that this man, his own near relative, had not only +deprived him of his property, but conspired against his life. + +"Hector," said Allan Roscoe, assuming a confidence he did not feel, "I +am amazed at your preposterous claim upon the property my brother left +to me. This is a poor return for his kindness to one who had no claim +upon him." + +"Mr. Parchment will speak for me," said Hector, briefly. + +"My young client," said the great lawyer, "claims to be the son of the +deceased Mr. Roscoe, and, of course, in that capacity, succeeds to his +father's estate." + +"It is one thing to make the claim, and another to substantiate it," +sneered Allan Roscoe. + +"Precisely so, Mr. Roscoe," said Mr. Parchment. "We quite agree with +you. Shall I tell you and your learned counsel what we are prepared to +prove?" + +Mr. Roscoe nodded uneasily. + +"We have the affidavits of the lady with whom your brother boarded +in Sacramento, and in whose house my young client was born. We have, +furthermore, the sworn testimony of the clergyman, still living, who +baptized him, and we can show, though it is needless, in the face of +such strong proof, that he was always spoken of in his infancy by Mr. +and Mrs. Roscoe as their child." + +"And I have my brother's letter stating that he was only adopted," +asserted Allan Roscoe. + +"Even that, admitting it to be genuine," said Mr. Parchment, "cannot +disprove the evidence I have already alluded to. If you insist upon it, +however, we will submit the letter to an expert, and--" + +"This is a conspiracy. I won't give up the estate," said Allan, +passionately. + +"We also claim that there is a conspiracy," said Mr. Parchment, +smoothly, "and there is one circumstance that will go far to confirm +it." + +"What is that?" demanded Allan Roscoe. + +"It is the attempt made upon my young client's life in San Francisco by +an agent of yours, Mr. Roscoe." + +"It is a lie!" said Allan, hoarsely, shaking, nevertheless, with fear. + +At a sign from Mr. Parchment, Hector opened the door of the office to +give admission to Reuben Pearce. + +At a sight of this man Allan Roscoe utterly collapsed. He felt that all +was lost! + +"Gentlemen," he said, "I will give up the estate, but for Heaven's sake, +don't prosecute me for this!" + +There was an informal conference, in which it was agreed that Allan +Roscoe should make no resistance to Hector's claim, but restore the +estate to him. Hector promised, though this was against his lawyer's +advice, to give his uncle, who would be left penniless, the sum of two +thousand dollars in cash, and an allowance of a hundred dollars per +month for his life. He appointed Mr. Newman his guardian, being a minor, +and was once more a boy of fortune. He resolved to continue his studies, +and in due time go to college, thus preparing himself for the high +position he would hereafter hold. + +As for Allan Roscoe, he and his son, Guy, lost no time in leaving the +neighborhood. Guy was intensely mortified at this turn of the wheel, +which had again brought his cousin uppermost, and was quite ready to +accompany his father to Chicago, where they are living at present. But +he had formed extravagant tastes, and has been a source of trouble and +solicitude to his father, who, indeed, hardly deserves the comfort of a +good son. + +Hector lost no time, after being restored to his old position, in +re-engaging Larry Deane's father, who had been discharged by his uncle. + +He paid him his usual wages for all the time he had been out of place, +and considerably raised his pay for the future. + +"Larry shall never want a friend as long as I live," he assured Mr. +Deane. "He was a friend to me when I needed one, and I will take care +to give him a good start in life." He redeemed this promise by securing +Larry a place in Mr. Newman's employ, and voluntarily allowed him as +large a weekly sum as the merchant paid him in addition, so that Larry +could live comfortably in the city. I am glad to say that Larry has +shown himself deserving of this kindness, and has already been promoted +to an important and better paid position. + +A word about Smith Institute. It never recovered from the blow that it +had received at the time when Hector found himself forced to leave it. +One after another the pupils left, and Mr. Smith felt that his race as +a schoolmaster was run. He advertised the institute for sale, and who do +you think bought it? Who but Hector Roscoe, who probably paid more for +it than anyone else would. + +My readers will hardly suppose that he wanted it for himself. In a +cordial letter he presented it to Mr. Crabb, the late usher, when he had +finished his engagement with Walter Boss, and the name was changed to +"Crabb Institute." It was not long before it regained its old patronage, +for Mr. Crabb was not only a good scholar, but was fair and just to +the pupils, ruling them rather by love than fear. He has married the +daughter of a neighboring clergyman, who is a judicious helper and +contributes to the success of the school. + +As for Jim Smith, the last heard of him was to this effect: He had +strayed out to St. Louis, and, after a few months of vicissitude, had +secured the position of bartender in a low liquor saloon. He has very +little chance of rising higher. The young tyrant of Smith Institute has +not done very well for himself, but he has himself to blame for it. + +To return to Hector. I think we are justified in predicting for him a +prosperous future. He behaved well in adversity. He is not likely to be +spoiled by prosperity, but promises to grow up a good and manly man, who +will seek to do good as he goes along, and so vindicate his claim to the +exceptional good fortune which he enjoys. + +THE END. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Hector's Inheritance, by Horatio Alger + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HECTOR'S INHERITANCE *** + +***** This file should be named 5674.txt or 5674.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/5/6/7/5674/ + +Produced by Carrie Fellman + +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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Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: Hector's Inheritance + or The Boys of Smith Institute + +Author: Horatio Alger + +Release Date: May, 2004 [EBook #5674] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on August 7, 2002] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HECTOR'S INHERITANCE *** + + + + +Produced by Carrie Fellman + + + + +HECTOR'S INHERITANCE + +OR + +THE BOYS OF SMITH INSTITUTE + +HORATIO ALGER, JR. + +Author of "Eric Train Boy" "Young Acrobat," "Only an Irish Boy," +"Bound to Rise," "The Young Outlaw," "Driven from Home" etc. + +NEW YORK + + + + + + +HECTOR'S INHERITANCE. + +CHAPTER I. + +MR. ROSCOE RECEIVES TWO LETTERS. + + + + + +Mr. Roscoe rang the bell, and, in answer, a servant entered the +library, where he sat before a large and commodious desk. + +"Has the mail yet arrived?" he asked. + +"Yes, sir; John has just come back from the village." + +"Go at once and bring me the letters and papers, if there are any." + +John bowed and withdrew. + +Mr. Roscoe walked to the window, and looked thoughtfully out upon a +smooth, luxuriant lawn and an avenue of magnificent trees, through +which carriages were driven to what was popularly known as Castle +Roscoe. Everything, even to the luxuriously appointed room in which +he sat, indicated wealth and the ease which comes from affluence. + +Mr. Roscoe looked around him with exultation. + +"And all this may be mine," he said to himself, "if I am only bold. +What is it old Pindar says? 'Boldness is the beginning of victory.' +I have forgotten nearly all I learned in school, but I remember +that. There is some risk, perhaps, but not much, and I owe something +to my son---" + +He was interrupted by the entrance of the servant with a small +leather bag, which was used to hold mail matter, going from or +coming to the house. + +The servant unlocked the bag, and emptied the contents on the desk. +There were three or four papers and two letters. It was the last +which attracted Mr. Roscoe's attention. + +We will take the liberty of looking over Mr. Roscoe's shoulder as he +reads the first. It ran as follows: + +"DEAR SIR:-I am in receipt of your favor, asking my terms for +boarding pupils. For pupils of fifteen or over, I charge five +hundred dollars per year, which is not a large sum considering the +exceptional advantages presented by Inglewood School. My pupils are +from the best families, and enjoy a liberal table. Moreover, I +employ competent teachers, and guarantee rapid progress, when the +student is of good, natural capacity, and willing to work. + +"I think you will agree with me that it is unwise to economize when +the proper training of a youth is in question, and that a cheap +school is little better than no school at all. + +"I have only to add that I shall be most happy to receive your young +nephew, if you decide to send him to me, and will take personal +pains to promote his advancement. I remain, dear sir, your obedient +servant, + +"DIONYSIUS KADIX." + +Mr. Roscoe threw the letter down upon the desk with an impatient +gesture. + +"Five hundred dollars a year!" he exclaimed. "What can the man be +thinking of? Why, when I went to school, twenty-five years since, +less than half this sum was charged. The man is evidently rapacious. +Let me see what this other letter says." + +The second letter was contained in a yellow envelope, of cheap +texture, and was much more plebeian in appearance than the first. + +Again we will look over Mr. Roscoe's shoulder, and read what it +contains. It was postmarked Smithville, and the envelope was +disfigured by a blot. It commenced: + +"DEAR SIR:-It gives me pleasure to answer your inquiries respecting +my school. I have about fifty pupils, part of whom, say one-third, +are boarders. Though I say it myself, it will be hard to find any +school where more thorough instruction is given. I look upon my +pupils as my children, and treat them as such. My system of +government is, therefore, kind and parental, and my pupils are often +homesick in vacation, longing for the time to come when they can +return to their studies at Smith Institute. It is the dearest wish +of Mrs. Smith and myself to make our young charges happy, and to +advance them, by pleasant roads over flowery meads, to the inner +courts of knowledge. + +"Humbug!" muttered Mr. Roscoe. "I understand what all that means." +He continued: + +"I hope you will not consider three hundred dollars per annum too +much for such parental care. Considering the present high price of +provisions, it is really as low a price as we can afford to receive. + +"I shall be glad if you consider my letter favorable and decide to +place your nephew under my charge. Yours respectfully, + +"SOCRATES SMITH, A. M." + +"That is more reasonable," said Mr. Roscoe, to himself, as he laid +down the letter. "Three hundred dollars I consider a fair price. At +any rate, I do not propose to pay any more for Hector. I suppose the +table is plain enough, but I don't believe in pampering the +appetites of boys. If he were the master of Roscoe Hall, as he +thinks he is, there might be some propriety in it; but upon that +head I shall soon undeceive him. I will let him understand that I am +the proprietor of the estate, and that he is only a dependent on my +bounty. I wonder how he will take it. I dare say he will make a +fuss, but he shall soon be made to understand that it is of no use. +Now to answer these letters." + +Mr. Roscoe sat down in a luxurious armchair, and, drawing pen and +paper toward him, wrote first to Dr. Radix. I subjoin the letter, as +it throws some light upon the character of the writer: + +"ROSCOE HALL, Sept. 10th. DR. DIONYSIUS RADIX. + +"My DEAR SIR:-I am in receipt of your letter of the 8th instant, +answering my inquiries in regard to your school. Let me say at once +that I find your terms too high. Five hundred dollars a year for +forty weeks' board and schooling seems to me an exorbitant price to +ask. Really, at this rate, education will soon become a luxury open +only to the wealthy. + +"You are probably under a misapprehension in reference to my young +ward. Nephew he is not, in a strict sense of the term. He was +adopted--not legally, but practically--by my brother, when he was +only a year old, and his origin has been concealed from him. My +brother, being childless, has allowed him to suppose that he was his +own son. Undoubtedly he meant to provide for him in his will, but, +as often happens, put off will-making till it was too late. The +estate, therefore, goes to me, and the boy is unprovided for. This +does not so much matter, since I am willing to educate him, and give +him a fair start in life, if he acts in a manner to suit me. I do +not, however, feel called upon to pay an exorbitant price for his +tuition, and, therefore, shall be obliged to forego placing him at +Inglewood School. Yours, etc., + +"ALLAN ROSCOE." + +"When this letter is sent, I shall have taken the decisive step," +thought Mr. Roscoe. "I must then adhere to my story, at whatever +cost. Now for the other." + +His reply to the letter of Socrates Smith, A. M., was briefer, but +likely to be more satisfactory to the recipient. It ran thus; + +"SOCRATES SMITH, A. M. + +"DEAR Sir:-Your letter is at hand, and I find it, on the whole, +satisfactory. The price you charge-three hundred dollars per +annum--is about right. I hope you are a firm disciplinarian. I do +not want Hector too much indulged or pampered, though he may expect +it, my poor brother having been indulgent to excess. + +"Let me add, by the bye, that Hector is not my nephew, though I may +inadvertently have mentioned him as such, and had no real claims +upon my brother, though he has been brought up in that belief. He +was adopted, in an informal way, by my brother, when he was but, an +infant. Under the circumstances, I am willing to take care of him, +and prepare him to earn his own living when his education is +completed. + +"You may expect to see me early next week. I will bring the boy with +me, and enter him at once as a pupil in your school. + +"Yours, etc., ALLAN ROSCOE." + +"There, that clinches it!" said Mr. Roscoe, in a tone of +satisfaction. "Now for an interview with the boy." + + + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +RESENTING AN INSULT. + + + + + +A stone's throw from the mansion was a neat and spacious carriage +house. The late master of Castle Roscoe had been fond of driving, +and kept three horses and two carriages. One of the latter was an +old-fashioned coach; while there was, besides, a light buggy, which +Hector was accustomed to consider his own. It was he, generally, who +used this, for his father preferred to take a driver, and generally +took an airing, either alone or with Hector, in the more stately +carriage, drawn by two horses. + +Hector walked across the lawn and entered the carriage house, where +Edward, the coachman, was washing the carriage. As the former is to +be our hero, we may pause to describe him. + +He was fifteen, slenderly but strongly made, with a clear skin and +dark eyes and a straightforward look. He had a winning smile, that +attracted all who saw it, but his face could assume a different +expression if need be. There were strong lines about his mouth that +indicated calm resolution and strength of purpose. He was not a boy +who would permit himself to be imposed upon, but was properly +tenacious of his rights. + +As he entered the carriage house, he looked about him in some +surprise. + +"Where is the buggy, Edward?" he asked. + +"Master Guy is driving out in it." + +"How is that?" said Hector. "Doesn't he know that it is mine? He +might, at least, have asked whether I intended to use it." + +"That is what I told him." + +"And what did he say?" + +"That it was just as much his as yours, and perhaps more so." + +"What could he mean?" + +"He said his father had promised to give it to him." + +"Promised to give him my buggy!" exclaimed Hector, his eyes +flashing. + +"It's a shame, Master Hector, so it is," said Edward, +sympathetically. He had known Hector since he was a boy of five, and +liked him far better than Guy, who was a newcomer, and a boy +disposed to domineer over those whom he considered his inferiors. + +"I don't intend to submit to it," said Hector, trying, +ineffectually, to curb his anger. + +"I don't blame you, Master Hector, but I'm afraid you will have a +hard time. As your uncle is your guardian, of course he has power +over you, and he thinks everything of that boy of his, though, to my +mind, he is an unmannerly cub." + +"I don't know how much power he has over me, but he mustn't expect +me to play second fiddle to his son. I am willing that Guy should +enjoy as many privileges as I do, though the estate is mine; but he +mustn't interfere with my rights." + +"That's right, Master Hector. Why don't you speak to your uncle +about it? I would, if I were you." + +"So I will, if it is necessary. I will speak to Guy first, and that +may be sufficient. I don't want to enter complaint against him if I +can help it." + +"You didn't see Master Guy ride out, did you?" + +"'No; I was reading. If I had seen him, I would have stopped him." + +"I am afraid it wouldn't have done any good." + +"Do you mean that he would have taken the buggy in spite of me?" +asked Hector, indignantly. + +"I think he would have tried. To tell the truth, Master Hector, I +refused to get the buggy ready for him, till he brought out a paper +from his father commanding me to do it. Then, of course, I had no +choice." + +Hector was staggered by this. + +"Have you got the paper?" he asked. + +"Yes," answered Edward, fumbling in his vest pocket. + +He drew out a small scrap of notepaper, on which was written, "My +son, Guy, has my permission to ride out in the buggy. You will obey +me rather than Hector." + +This was signed, "Allan Roscoe." + +"So it seems my uncle is the trespasser," said Hector. "It is he who +takes the responsibility. I will go and speak to him at once." + +"Wait a minute! There comes Master Guy, returning from his ride. You +can have it out with him first." + +In fact, Hector had only to look down the avenue to see the rapid +approach of the buggy. Guy held the reins, and was seated in the +driver's seat with all the air of a master. The sight aggravated +Hector, and not without reason. He waited until Guy, flinging the +reins to Edward, leaped from the buggy, then he thought it time to +speak. + +"Guy," he said, calmly, "it seems to me that you owe me an apology." + +"Oh, I do, do I?" sneered Guy. "What for, let me ask?" + +"You have driven out in my buggy, without asking my permission." + +"Oh, it's your buggy, is it?" said Guy, with another sneer. + +"Of course it is. You know that as well as I do." + +"I don't know it at all." + +"Then I inform you of it. I don't want to be selfish; I am willing +that you should ride out in it occasionally; but I insist upon your +asking my permission." + +Guy listened to these words with a sneer upon his face. He was about +the same age and size as Hector, but his features were mean and +insignificant, and there was a shifty look in his eye that stamped +him as unreliable. He did not look like the Roscoes, though in many +respects he was in disposition and character similar to his father. + +"It strikes me," he said, with an unpleasant smile, "that you're +taking a little too much upon yourself, Hector Roscoe. The buggy is +no more yours than mine." + +"What do you say, Edward?" said Hector, appealing to the coachman. + +"I say that the buggy is yours, and the horse is yours, and so I +told Master Guy, but he wouldn't take no notice of it." + +"Do you hear that, Guy?" + +"Yes, I do; and that's what I think of it," answered Guy, snapping +his fingers. "My father gave me permission to ride out in it, and +I've got just as much right to it as you, and perhaps more." + +"You know better, Guy," said Hector, indignantly; "and I warn you +not to interfere with my rights hereafter." + +"Suppose I do?" sneered Guy. + +"Then I shall be under the necessity of giving you a lesson," said +Hector, calmly. + +"You will, will you? You'll give me a lesson?" repeated Guy, nodding +vigorously. "Who are you, I'd like to know?" + +"If you don't know, I can tell you." + +"Tell me, then." + +"I am Hector Roscoe, the owner of Roscoe Hall. Whether your father +is to be my guardian or not, I don't know; but there are limits to +the power of a guardian, and I hope he won't go too far." + +"Hear the boy talk!" said Guy, contemptuously. + +"I wish to treat my uncle with becoming respect; but he is a +newcomer here--I never saw him till three months since--and he has +no right to come here, and take from me all my privileges. We can +all live at peace together, and I hope we shall; but he must treat +me well." + +"You are quite sure Roscoe Castle belongs to you, are you, Hector?" + +"That's the law. Father left no will, and so the estate comes to +me." + +"Ho! ho!" laughed Guy, with malicious glee. + +"If you only knew what I know, you wouldn't crow quite so loud. It's +a splendid joke." + +There was something in this that attracted Hector's attention, +though he was not disposed to attach much importance to what Guy +said. + +"If I only knew what you know!" he repeated. + +"Yes; that's what I said." + +"What is it?" + +"You'll know it soon enough, and I can tell you one thing, it'll +surprise you. It'll take down your pride a peg or two." + +Hector stared at his cousin in unaffected surprise. What could Guy +possibly mean? Had his father perhaps made a will, and left the +estate to some one else--his uncle, for example? Was this the +meaning of Guy's malicious mirth? + +"I don't know to what you refer," he said; "but if it's anything +that is of importance to me, I ought to know it. What is it?" + +"Go and ask father," said Guy, with a tantalizing grin. + +"I will," answered Hector, "and without delay." + +He turned to enter the house, but Guy had not exhausted his malice. +He was in a hurry to triumph over Hector, whom he disliked heartily. + +"I don't mind telling you myself," he said. + +"You are not what you suppose. You're a lowborn beggar!" + +He had no sooner uttered these words, than Hector resented the +insult. Seizing the whip from Guy, he grasped him by the collar, +flung him to the ground and lashed him with it. + +"There," said he, with eyes aflame, "take that, Guy Roscoe, and look +out how you insult me in future!" + +Guy rose slowly from the ground, pale with fury, and, as he brushed +the dust from his clothes, ejaculated: + +"You'll pay dearly for this, Hector!" + +"I'll take the consequences," said Hector, as coldly as his anger +would allow. "Now, I shall go to your father and ask the meaning of +this." + + + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +HECTOR LEARNS A SECRET. + + + + + +Hector entered the library with some impetuosity. Usually he was +quiet and orderly, but he had been excited by the insinuations of +Guy, and he was impatient to know what he meant--if he meant +anything. + +Allan Roscoe looked up, and remarked, with slight sarcasm: + +"This is not a bear garden, Hector. You appear to think you are on +the playground, judging by your hasty motions." + +"I beg your pardon, uncle," said Hector, who never took amiss a +rebuke which he thought deserved. "I suppose I forgot myself, being +excited. I beg your pardon." + +"What is the cause of your excitement?" asked Mr. Roscoe, surveying +the boy keenly. + +"Guy has said something that I don't understand." + +"He must have said something very profound, then," returned Allan +Roscoe, with light raillery. + +"Indeed, Uncle Allan, it is no laughing matter," said Hector, +earnestly. + +"Then let me hear what it is." + +"He intimates that he knows something that would let down my pride a +peg or two. He hints that I am not the heir of Castle Roscoe." + +The boy used the term by which the house was usually known. + +Allan Roscoe knit his brow in pretended vexation. + +"Inconsiderate boy!" he murmured. "Why need he say this?" + +"But," said Hector, startled, "is it true?" + +"My boy," said his uncle, with simulated feeling, "my son has spoken +to you of a secret which I would willingly keep from you if I could. +Yet, perhaps, it is as well that you should be told now." + +"Told what?" exclaimed Hector, quite at sea. + +"Can you bear to hear, Hector, that it is indeed true? You are not +the owner of this estate." + +"Who is then?" ejaculated the astonished boy. + +"I am; and Guy after me." + +"What! Did my father leave the estate away from me? I thought he did +not leave a will?" + +"Nor did he." + +"Then how can anyone else except his son inherit?" + +"Your question is a natural one. If you were his son you would +inherit under the law." + +"If I were his son!" repeated Hector, slowly, his head swimming. +"What do you mean by that? Of course I am your brother's son." + +"It is very painful for me to tell, Hector. It will be distressing +for you to hear. No tie of blood connects you with the late owner of +Castle Roscoe." + +"I don't believe you, Uncle Allan," said Hector, bluntly. + +"Of course, therefore, I am not your uncle," added Allan Roscoe, +dryly. + +"I beg your pardon; I should have said Mr. Allan Roscoe," said +Hector, bowing proudly, for his heart was sore, and he was deeply +indignant with the man who sat, smooth and sleek, in his father's +chair, harrowing up his feelings without himself being ruffled. + +"That is immaterial. Call me uncle, if you like, since the truth is +understood. But I must explain." + +"I would like to know what is your authority for so surprising a +statement, Mr. Roscoe. You cannot expect me to believe that I have +been deceived all my life." + +"I make the statement on your father's authority--I should say, on +my brother's authority." + +"Can you prove it, Mr. Roscoe?" + +"I can. I will presently put into your hands a letter, written me by +my brother some months since, which explains the whole matter. To +save you suspense, however, I will recapitulate. Where were you +born?" + +"In California." + +"That is probably true. It was there that my brother found you." + +"Found me?" + +"Perhaps that is not the word. My brother and his wife were boarding +in Sacramento in the winter of 1859. In the same boarding house was +a widow, with a child of some months old. You were that child. Your +mother died suddenly, and it was ascertained that she left nothing. +Her child was, therefore, left destitute. It was a fine, promising +boy--give me credit for the compliment--and my brother, having no +children of his own, proposed to his wife to adopt it. She was fond +of children, and readily consented. No formalities were necessary, +for there was no one to claim you. You were at once taken in charge +by my brother and his wife, therefore, and very soon they came to +look upon you with as much affection as if you were their own child. +They wished you to consider them your real parents, and to you the +secret was never made known, nor was it known to the world. When my +brother returned to this State, three years after, not one of his +friends doubted that the little Hector was his own boy. + +"When you were six years old your mother died--that is, my brother's +wife. All the more, perhaps, because he was left alone, my brother +became attached to you, and, I think, he came to love you as much as +if you were his own son." + +"I think he did," said Hector, with emotion. "Never was there a +kinder, more indulgent father." + +"Yet he was not your father," said Allan Roscoe, with sharp +emphasis. + +"So you say, Mr. Roscoe." + +"So my brother says in his letter to me." + +"Do you think it probable that, with all this affection for me, he +would have left me penniless?" asked the boy. + +"No; it was his intention to make a will. By that will he would no +doubt have provided for you in a satisfactory manner. But I think my +poor brother had a superstitious fear of will making, lest it might +hasten death. At any rate, he omitted it till it was too late." + +"It was a cruel omission, if your story is a true one." + +"Your--my brother, did what he could to remedy matters. In his last +sickness, when too weak to sign his name, he asked me, as the legal +heir of his estate, to see that you were well provided for. He +wished me to see your education finished, and I promised to do so. I +could see that this promise relieved his mind. Of one thing you may +be assured, Hector, he never lost his affection for you." + +"Thank Heaven for that!" murmured the boy, who had been deeply and +devotedly attached to the man whom, all his life long, he had looked +upon as his father. + +"I can only add, Hector," said Mr. Roscoe, "that I feel for your +natural disappointment. It is, indeed, hard to be brought up to +regard yourself as the heir of a great estate, and to make the +discovery that you have been mistaken." + +"I don't mind that so much, Mr. Roscoe," said Hector, slowly. "It is +the hardest thing to think of myself as having no claim upon one +whom I have loved as a father--to think myself as a boy of unknown +parentage. But," he added, suddenly, "I have it only on your word. +Why should I believe it?" + +"I will give you conclusive proof, Hector. Read this." + +Allan Roscoe took from his pocket a letter, without an envelope. One +glance served to show Hector that it was in the handwriting of his +late father, or, at any rate, in a handwriting surprisingly like it. + +He began to read it with feverish haste. + +The letter need not find a place here. The substance of it had been +accurately given by Mr. Allan Roscoe. Apparently, it corroborated +his every statement. + +The boy looked up from its perusal, his face pale and stricken. + +"You see that I have good authority for my statement," said Mr. +Roscoe. + +"I can't understand it," said Hector, slowly. + +"I need only add," said Mr. Roscoe, apparently relieved by the +revelation, "that my brother did not repose confidence in me in +vain. I accept, as a sacred charge, the duty he imposed upon me. I +shall provide for you and look after your education. I wish to put +you in a way to prepare yourself for a useful and honorable career. +As a first step, I intend, on Monday next, to place you in an +excellent boarding school, where you will have exceptional +privileges." + +Hector listened, but his mind was occupied by sad thoughts, and he +made no comment. + +"I have even selected the school with great care," said Mr. Roscoe. +"It is situated at Smithville, and is under the charge of Socrates +Smith, A. M., a learned and distinguished educator. You may go now. +I will speak with you on this subject later." + +Hector bowed. After what he had heard, his interest in other matters +was but faint. + +"I shall be glad to get him out of the house," thought Allan Roscoe. +"I never liked him." + + + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +A SKIRMISH. + + + + + +Hector walked out of the house in a state of mental bewilderment not +easily described. Was he not Hector Roscoe, after all? Had he been +all his life under a mistake? If this story were true, who was he, +who were his parents, what was his name? Why had the man whom he had +supposed to be his father not imparted to him this secret? He had +always been kind and indulgent; he had never appeared to regard the +boy as an alien in blood, but as a dearly loved son. Yet, if he had, +after all, left him unprovided for, he had certainly treated Hector +with great cruelty. + +"I won't believe it," said Hector, to himself. + +"I won't so wrong my dear father's memory at the bidding of this +man, whose interest it is to trump up this story, since he and his +son become the owners of a great estate in my place." + +Just then Guy advanced toward Hector with a malicious smile upon his +face. He knew very well what a blow poor Hector had received, for he +was in his father's confidence, and he was mean enough, and +malicious enough, to rejoice at it. + +"What's the matter with you, Hector?" he asked, with a grin. "You +look as if you had lost your last friend." + +Hector stopped short and regarded Guy fixedly. + +"Do you know what your father has been saying to me?" he asked. + +"Well, I can guess," answered Guy. "Ho! ho! It's a great joke that +you have all the time fancied yourself the heir of Castle Roscoe, +when you have no claim to it at all. I am the heir!" he added, +drawing himself up proudly; "and you are a poor dependent, and a +nobody. It's funny!" + +"Perhaps you won't think it so funny after this!" said Hector, +coolly, exasperated beyond endurance. As he spoke he drew off, and +in an instant Guy measured his length upon the greensward. + +Guy rose, his face livid with passion, in a frame of mind far from +funny. He clinched his fists and looked at Hector as if he wished to +annihilate him. "You'll pay for this," he screamed. "You'll repent +it, bitterly, you poor, nameless dependent, low-born, very likely--" + +"Hold, there!" said Hector, advancing resolutely, and sternly facing +the angry boy. "Be careful what you say. If this story of your +father's is true, which I don't believe, you might have the decency +to let me alone, even if you don't sympathize with me. If you dare +to say or hint anything against my birth, I'll treat you worse than +I have yet." + +"You'll suffer for this!" almost shrieked Guy. + +"I am ready to suffer now, if you are able to make me," said Hector. +"Come on, and we'll settle it now." + +But Guy had no desire for the contest to which he was invited. He +had a wholesome fear of Hector's strong, muscular arms, aided, as +they were, by some knowledge of boxing. Hector had never taken +regular lessons, but a private tutor, whom his father had employed, +a graduate of Yale, had instructed him in the rudiments of the +"manly art of self-defense," and Hector was very well able to take +care of himself against any boy of his own size and strength. In +size, Guy was his equal, but in strength he was quite inferior. This +Guy knew full well, and, angry as he was, he by no means lost sight +of prudence. + +"I don't choose to dirty my hands with you," he said. "I shall tell +my father, and it would serve you right if he sent you adrift." + +In Hector's present mood, he would not, perhaps, have cared much if +this threat had been carried into execution, but he was not +altogether reckless, and he felt that it was best to remain under +Mr. Roscoe's protection until he had had time to investigate the +remarkable story which he suspected his reputed uncle had trumped up +to serve his own interests. + +"Tell your father, if you like," said Hector, quietly. "I don't know +whether he will sustain you or not in your insults, but if he does, +then I shall have two opponents instead of one." + +"Does that mean that you will attack my father?" demanded Guy, +hoping for an affirmative answer, as it would help him to prejudice +his father against our hero. + +"No," answered Hector, smiling, "I don't apprehend there will be any +necessity, for he won't insult me as you have done." + +Guy lost notime in seeking his father, and laying the matter before +him, inveighing against Hector with great bitterness. + +"So he knocked you down, did he, Guy?" asked Allan Roscoe, +thoughtfully. + +"Yes; he took me unawares, or he couldn't have done it," answered +Guy, a little ashamed at the avowal. + +"What did you do?" + +"I--I told him he should suffer for it." + +"Why did he attack you?" + +"It was on account of something I said." + +"What was it?" + +Guy reluctantly answered this question, and with correctness. + +"It was your fault for speaking to him wrhen he was feeling sore at +making a painful discovery." + +"Do you justify him in pitching into me like a big brute?" asked +Guy, hastily. + +"No; but still, I think it, was natural, under the circumstances. +You should have kept out of his way, and let him alone." + +"Won't you punish him for attacking me?" demanded Guy, indignantly. + +"I will speak to him on the subject," said Allan Roscoe; "and will +tell him my opinion of his act." + +"Then shan't I be revenged upon him?" asked Guy, disappointed. + +"Listen, Guy," said his father. "Is it no punishment that the boy is +stripped of all his possessions, while you step into his place? +Henceforth he will be dependent upon me, and later, upon you. He has +been hurled down from his proud place as owner of Castle Roscoe, and +I have taken his place, as you will hereafter do." + +"Yes," said Guy, gleefully; "it will be a proud day when I become +master of the estate." + +Allan Roscoe was not a specially sensitive man, but this remark of +his son jarred upon him. + +"You seem to forget, Guy, that you do not succeed till I am dead!" + +"Yes, I suppose so," answered Guy, slowly. + +"It almost seems as if you were in a hurry for me to die." + +"I didn't mean that, but it's natural to suppose that I shall live +longer than you do, isn't it?" + +"I suppose so," returned Allan Roscoe, shortly. + +"Of course that's what I mean." + +"Then, since you are so much better off than Hector, you had better +be more considerate, and leave him to get over his disappointment as +well as he can." + +"Shall I send in Hector to see you?" asked Guy, as he at length +turned to leave the room. + +"Yes." + +"You're to go in to my father," said Guy, reappearing on the lawn; +"he's going to give it to you." + +Hector anticipated some such summons, and he had remained in the +same spot, too proud to have it supposed that he shrank from the +interview. + +With a firm, resolute step, he entered the presence of Allan Roscoe. + +"I hear you wish to see me, Mr. Roscoe," he said, manfully. + +"Yes, Hector; Guy has come to me with complaints of you." + +"If he says I knocked him down for insulting me, he has told you the +truth," said Hector, sturdily. + +"That was the substance of what he said, though he did not admit the +insult." + +"But for that I should not have attacked him." + +"I do not care to interfere in boys' quarrels, except in extreme +cases," said Mr. Roscoe. "I am afraid Guy was aggravatiag, and you +were unnecessarily violent." + +"It doesn't seem to me so," said Hector. + +"So I regard it. I have warned him not to add by taunts to the +poignancy of your disappointment. I request you to remember that Guy +is my son, and that I am disposed to follow my brother's directions, +and provide for and educate you." + +Hector bowed and retired. He went out with a more favorable opinion +of Allan Roscoe, who had treated the difficulty in a reasonable +manner. + +Allan Roscoe looked after him as he went out. + +"I hate that boy," he said, to himself; "I temporize from motives of +policy, but I mean to tame his haughty spirit yet." + + + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +PREPARING TO LEAVE HOME. + + + + + +Allan Roscoe's remonstrance with the two boys had the effect of +keeping the peace between them for the remainder of the week. Guy +did not think it prudent to taunt Hector, unless backed up by his +father, and he felt that the change in their relative positions was +satisfaction enough at present. Besides, his father, in a subsequent +conversation, had told Guy that it was his purpose to place Hector +in a boarding school, where the discipline would be strict, and +where he would be thrashed if he proved rebellious. + +"I shall tell Mr. Smith," he added, "that the boy needs a strong +hand, and that I am not only perfectly willing that he should be +punished whenever occasion may call for it, but really desire it." + +"Good, good!" commended Guy, gleefully. "I hope old Smith'll lay it +on good." + +"I presume he will," said Allan Roscoe, smiling in sympathy with his +son's exuberance. "I am told by a man who knows him that he is a +tall man, strong enough to keep order, and determined to do it." + +"I should like to be there to see Hector's first flogging," remarked +the amiable Guy. "I'd rather see it than go to the theater any +time." + +"I don't see how you can, unless you also enter the school." + +"No, thank you," answered Guy. "No boarding school for me. That +isn't my idea of enjoyment. I'd rather stay at home with you. Hector +won't be here to interfere with my using his horse and buggy." + +"They are his no longer. I give them to you." + +"Thank you, father," said Guy, very much gratified. + +"But I would rather you would not use them till after Hector is +gone. It might disturb him." + +"That's just why I want to do it." + +"But it might make trouble. He might refuse to go to school." + +"You'd make him go, wouldn't you, father?" + +"Yes; but I wish to avoid forcible measures, if possible. Come, Guy, +it's only till Monday; then Hector will be out of the way, and you +can do as you please without fear of interference." + +"All right, father. I'll postpone my fun till he is out of the way. +You'll go with him, won't you?" + +"Yes, Guy." + +"Just tell old Smith how to treat him. Tell him to show him no +mercy, if he doesn't behave himself." + +"You seem to dislike Hector very much. You shouldn't feel so. It +isn't Christian." + +Guy looked at his father queerly out of the corner of his eye. He +understood him better than Allan Roscoe supposed. + +"I hope you won't insist on my loving him, father," he said. "I +leave that to you." + +"I only wish you to avoid coming into collision with him. As for +love, that is something not within our power." + +"Will you be ready to go with me to boarding school on Monday +morning, Hector?" asked Allan Roscoe, on Saturday afternoon. + +"Yes, sir." + +Indeed, Hector felt that it would be a relief to get away from the +house which he had been taught to look upon as his--first by right +of inheritance, and later as actual owner. As long as he remained he +was unpleasantly reminded of the great loss he had experienced. +Again, his relations with Guy were unfriendly, and he knew that if +they were permanently together it wouldn't be long before there +would be another collision. Though in such a case he was sure to +come off victorious, he did not care to contend, especially as no +advantage could come of it in the end. + +Of the boarding school kept by Mr. Socrates Smith he had never +heard, but felt that he would, at any rate, prefer to find himself +amid new scenes. If the school were a good one, he meant to derive +benefit from it, for he was fond of books and study, and thought +school duties no task. + +"I have carefully selected a school for you," continued Allan +Roscoe, "because I wish to follow out my poor brother's wishes to +the letter. A good education will fit you to maintain yourself, and +attain a creditable station in life, which is very important, since +you will have to carve your own future." + +There was no objection to make to all this. Still, it did grate upon +Hector's feelings, to be so often reminded of his penniless +position, when till recently he had regarded himself, and had been +regarded by others, as a boy of large property. + +Smithville was accessible by railroad, being on the same line as the +town of Plympton in which Roscoe Castle was situated. There was a +train starting at seven o'dock, which reached Smithville at +half-past, eight. This was felt to be the proper train to take, as +it would enable Hector to reach school before the morning session +began. Allan Roscoe, who was not an early riser, made an effort to +rise in time, and succeeded. In truth, he was anxious to get Hector +out of the house. It might be that the boy's presence was a tacit +reproach, it might be that he had contracted a dislike for him. At +any rate, when Hector descended to the breakfast room, he found Mr. +Roscoe already there. + +"You are in time, Hector," said Mr. Roscoe. "I don't know how early +they will get up at school, but I hope it won't be earlier than +this." + +"I have no objection to early rising," said Hector. + +"I have," said Allan Roscoe, gaping. + +"I am sorry to have inconvenienced you," +said Hector, politely. "I could have gone to school alone." + +"No doubt; but I wished an interview with Mr. Socrates Smith myself. +I look upon myself in the light of your guardian, though you are not +my nephew, as was originally supposed." + +"I'd give a good deal to know whether this is true," thought Hector, +fixing his eyes attentively upon his uncle's face. + +I have written "uncle" inadvertently, that being the character in +which Mr. Roscoe appeared to the world. + +"By the way, Hector," said Allan Roscoe, "there is one matter which +we have not yet settled." + +"What is that, sir?" + +"About your name." + +"My name is Hector Roscoe." + +"I beg your pardon. Assuming by brother's communication to be true, +and I think you will not question his word, you have no claim to the +name." + +"To what name have I a claim, then?" asked Hector, pointedly. + +"To the name of your father--the last name, I mean. I have no +objection to your retaining the name of Hector." + +"What was the name of my, father?" asked the boy. + +"Ahem! My brother did not mention that in his letter. Quite an +omission, I must observe." + +"Then it is clear that he meant to have me retain his own name," +said Hector, decisively. + +"That does not follow." + +"As I know no other name to which I have a claim, I shall certainly +keep the name of the kindest friend I ever had, whether he was my +father or not," said Hector, firmly. + +Allan Roscoe looked annoyed. + +"Really," he said, "I think this ill-judged, very ill-judged. It +will lead to misapprehension. It will deceive people into the belief +that you are a real Roscoe." + +"I don't know but I am," answered Hector, with a calm look of +defiance, which aggravated Allan Roscoe. + +"Have I not told you you are not?" he said, frowning. + +"You have; but you have not proved it," said Hector. + +"I am surprised that you should cling to a foolish delusion. You are +only preparing trouble for yourself. If my word is not sufficient--" + +"You are an interested party. This story, if true, gives you my +property." + +"At any rate, you may take your father's--I mean my brother's--word +for it." + +"If he had told me so, I would believe it," said Hector. + +"You have it in black and white, in the paper I showed you. What +more do you want?" + +"I want to be sure that that document is genuine. However, I won't +argue the question now. I have only been giving you my reasons for +keeping the name I have always regarded as mine." + +Allan Roscoe thought it best to drop the subject; but the boy's +persistency disturbed him. + + + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +SMITH INSTITUTE. + + + + + +Socrates Smith, A. M., was not always known by the philosophic name +by which he challenged the world's respect as a man of learning and +distinguished attainments. When a boy in his teens, and an academy +student, he was known simply as Shadrach Smith. His boy companions +used to address him familiarly as Shad. It was clear that no +pedagogue could retain the respect of his pupils who might readily +be metamorphosed into Old Shad. By the advice of a brother preacher, +he dropped the plebeian name, and bloomed forth as Socrates Smith, +A. M. + +I may say, in confidence, that no one knew from what college Mr. +Smith obtained the degree of Master of Arts. He always evaded the +question himself, saying that it was given him by a Western +university causa honoris. + +It might be, or it might not. At any rate, he was allowed to wear +the title, since no one thought it worth while to make the necessary +examination into its genuineness. Nor, again, had anyone been able +to discover at what college the distinguished Socrates had studied. +In truth, he had never even entered college, but he had offered +himself as a candidate for admission to a college in Ohio, and been +rejected. This did not, however, prevent his getting up a school, +and advertising to instruct others in the branches of learning of +which his own knowledge was so incomplete. + +He was able to hide his own deficiencies, having generally in his +employ some college graduate, whose poverty compelled him to accept +the scanty wages which Socrates doled out to him. These young men +were generally poor scholars in more than one sense of the word, as +Mr. Smith did not care to pay the high salary demanded by a +first-class scholar. Mr. Smith was shrewd enough not to attempt to +instruct the classes in advanced classics or mathematics, as he did +not care to have his deficiencies understood by his pupils. + +It pleased him best to sit in state and rule the school, +administering reproofs and castigations where he thought fit, and, +best of all, to manage the finances. Though his price was less than +that of many other schools, his profits were liberal, as he kept +down expenses. His table was exceedingly frugal, as his boarding +pupils could have testified, and the salaries he paid to under +teachers were pitifully small. + +So it was that, year by year, Socrates Smith, A. M., found himself +growing richer, while his teachers grew more shabby, and his pupils +rarely became fat. + +Allan Roscoe took a carriage from the depot to the school. + +Arrived at the gate, he descended, and Hector followed him. + +The school building was a long, rambling, irregular structure, of no +known order of architecture, bearing some resemblance to a factory. +The ornament of architecture Mr. Smith did not regard. He was +strictly of a utilitarian cast of mind. So long as the institute, as +he often called it, afforded room for the school and scholars he did +not understand what more was wanted. + +"Is Mr. Smith at leisure?" Mr. Roscoe asked of a bare-arm servant +girl who answered the bell. + +"I guess he's in his office," was the reply. + +"Take him this card," said Mr. Roscoe. The girl inspected the card +with some curiosity, and carried it to the eminent principal. When +Socrates Smith read upon the card the name + +ALLAN ROSCOE, + +and, penciled in the corner, "with a pupil," he said, briskly: + +"Bring the gentleman in at once, Bridget." + +As Mr. Roscoe entered, Mr. Smith beamed upon him genially. It was +thus he always received those who brought to him new scholars. As he +always asked half a term's tuition and board in advance, every such +visitor represented to him so much ready cash, and for ready cash +Socrates had a weakness. + +"I am glad to see you, Mr. Roscoe," said the learned principal, +advancing to meet his visitor. "And this is the young lad. Dear me! +he is very well grown, and looks like he was fond of his books." + +This was not exactly the way in which a learned scholar might be +expected to talk; but Mr. Smith's speech was not always elegant, or +even grammatically correct. + +"I believe he is reasonably fond of study," said Mr. Roscoe. +"Hector, this is your future instructor, Prof. Socrates Smith." + +At the name of professor, which he much affected, Socrates Smith +looked positively benignant. + +"My young friend," he said, "we will try to make you happy. Smith +Institute is a regular beehive, full of busy workers, who are +preparing themselves for the duties and responsibilities of life. I +aim to be a father to my pupils, and Mrs. Smith is a mother to them. +I am truly glad to receive you into my happy family." + +Hector scanned attentively the face of his new teacher. He was not +altogether prepossessed in his favor. That the reader may judge +whether he had reason to be, let me describe Mr. Smith. + +He was a trifle over six feet in height, with yellowish, sandy hair, +high cheek bones, a rough and mottled skin, a high but narrow +forehead, a pair of eyes somewhat like those of a ferret, long, +ungainly limbs, and a shambling walk. A coat of rusty black, with +very long tails, magnified his apparent height, and nothing that he +wore seemed made for him. + +Perhaps, as the first Socrates was said to have been the homeliest +of all the Athenians, it was fitting that the man who assumed his +name should also have the slightest possible claim to beauty. + +"He may be a learned man," thought Hector, "but he is certainly +plain enough. It is well that he has something to compensate for his +looks." + +"I hope you are glad to come here, my boy," said Socrates, affably. +"I sincerely trust that you will be contented at the institute." + +"I hope so, too," said Hector, but he evidently spoke doubtfully. + +"I should like a little conversation with you, Professor Smith," +said Allan Roscoe. "I don't know that it is necessary to keep Hector +here during our interview." + +Socrates took the hint. + +He rang a hand bell, and a lank boy, of fifteen, appeared. + +"Wilkius," said Mr. Smith, "this is a new scholar, Hector Roscoe. +Take him to the playground, and introduce him to Mr. Crabb." + +"All right, sir. Come along." + +This last was addressed to Hector, who went out with the new boy. + +"I thought it best to speak with you briefly about Hector, Professor +Smith," commenced Allan Roscoe. + +"Very appropriate and gratifying, Mr. Roscoe. I can assure you he +will be happy here." + +"I dare say," returned Mr. Roscoe, carelessly. "I wish to guard you +against misinterpreting my wishes. I don't want the boy pampered, or +too much indulged." + +"We never pamper our boarding pupils," said Socrates, and it is +quite certain that he spoke the truth. + +"It spoils boys to be too well treated." + +"So it does," said Socrates, eagerly. "Plain, wholesome diet, +without luxury, and a kind, but strict discipline--such are the +features of Smith Institute." + +"Quite right and judicious, professor. I may remark that the boy, +though reared in luxury by my brother, is really penniless." + +"You don't say so?" + +"Yes, he is solely dependent upon my generosity. I propose, however, +to give him a good education at my own expense, and prepare him to +earn his living in some useful way." + +"Kind philanthropist!" exclaimed Socrates. "He ought, indeed, to be +grateful." + +"I doubt if he will," said Mr. Roscoe, shrugging his shoulders. "He +has a proud spirit, and a high idea of his own position, though he +is of unknown parentage, and has nothing of his own." + +"Indeed!" + +"I merely wish to say that you do not need to treat him as if he +were my nephew. It is best to be strict with him, and make him +conform to the rules." + +"I will, indeed, Mr. Roscoe. Would that all guardians of youth were +as judicious! Your wishes shall be regarded." + +After a little more conversation, Allan Roscoe took his leave. + +So, under auspices not the most pleasant, Hector's school life +began. + + + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +THE TYRANT OF THE PLAYGROUND. + + + + + +Under the guidance of the lank boy, named Wilkins, Hector left Mr. +Smith's office, and walked to a barren-looking plot of ground behind +the house, which served as a playground for the pupils of Smith +Institute. + +Wilkins scanned the new arrival closely. + +"I say, Roscoe," he commenced, "what made you come here?" + +"Why do boys generally come to school?" returned Hector. + +"Because they have to, I suppose," answered Wilkins. + +"I thought they came to study." + +"Oh, you're one of that sort, are you?" asked Wilkins, curiously. + +"I hope to learn something here." + +"You'll get over that soon," answered Wilkins, in the tone of one +who could boast of a large experience. + +"I hope not. I shall want to leave school if I find I can't learn +here." + +"Who is it that brought you here--your father?" + +"No, indeed!" answered Hector, quickly, for he had no desire to be +considered the son of Allan Roscoe. + +"Uncle, then?" + +"He is my guardian," answered Hector, briefly. + +They were by this time in the playground. Some dozen boys were +playing baseball. They were of different ages and sizes, ranging +from ten to nineteen. The oldest and largest bore such a strong +personal resemblance to Socrates Smith, that Hector asked if he were +his son. + +"No," answered Wilkins; "he is old Sock's nephew." + +"Who is old Sock?" + +"Smith, of course. His name is Socrates, you know. Don't let him +catch you calling him that, though." + +"What sort of a fellow is this nephew?" asked Hector. + +"He's a bully. He bosses the boys. It's best to keep on the right +side of Jim." + +"Oh, is it?" inquired Hector, smiling slightly. + +"Well, I should say so." + +"Suppose you don't?" + +"He'll give you a thrashing." + +"Does his uncle allow that?" + +"Yes; I think he rather likes it." + +"Don't the boys resist?" + +"It won't do any good. You see, Jim's bigger than any of us." + +Hector took a good look at this redoubtable Jim Smith. + +He was rather loosely made, painfully homely, and about five feet +nine inches in height. Nothing more need be said, as, in appearance, +he closely resembled his uncle. + +Jim Smith soon gave Hector an opportunity of verifying the +description given of him by Wilkins. + +The boy at the bat had struck a ball to the extreme boundary of the +field. The fielder at that point didn't go so fast as Jim, who was +pitcher, thought satisfactory, and he called out in a rough, brutal +tone: + +"If you don't go quicker, Archer, I'll kick you all round the +field." + +Hector looked at Wilkins inquiringly. + +"Does he mean that?" he asked. + +"Yes, he does." + +"Does he ever make such a brute of himself?" + +"Often." + +"And the boys allow it?" + +"They can't help it." + +"So, it seems, you have a tyrant of the school?" + +"That's just it." + +"Isn't there any boy among you to teach the fellow better manners? +You must be cowards to submit." + +"Oh, you'll find out soon that you must submit, too," said Wilkins. + +Hector smiled. + +"You don't know me yet," he said. + +"What could you do against Jim? He's three or four inches taller +than you. How old are you?" + +"I shall be sixteen next month." + +"And he is nineteen." + +"That may be; but he'd better not try to order me round." + +"You'll sing a different tune in a day or two," said Wilkins. + +By this time Jim Smith had observed the new arrival. + +"What's that you've got with you, Wilkins?" he demanded, pausing in +his play. + +"The new boy." + +"Who's he?" + +"His name is Roscoe." + +"Ho! Hasn't he got any other name?" asked Jim, meaningly. + +Wilkins had forgotten the new arrival's first name, and said so. + +"What's your name, Roscoe?" asked Jim, in the tone of a superior. + +Hector resented this tone, and, though he had no objection, under +ordinary circumstances, to answering the question, he did not choose +to gratify his present questioner. + +"I don't happen to have a card with me," he answered, coldly. + +"Oh, that's your answer, is it?" retorted Jim, scenting +insubordination with undisguised pleasure, for he always liked the +task of subduing a new boy. + +"Yes." + +"I guess you don't know who I am," said Jim, blustering. + +"Oh, yes, I do." + +"Well, who am I, then?" + +"The bully of the school, I should suppose, from your style of +behavior." + +"Do you hear that, boys?" demanded Jim, in a theatrical tone, +turning to the other boys. + +There was a little murmur in response, but whether of approval or +reprobation, it was not easy to judge. + +"That boy calls me a bully! He actually has the audacity to insult +me! What do you say to that?" + +The boys looked uneasy. Possibly, in their secret hearts, they +admired the audacity that Jim complained of; but, seeing the +difference between the two boys in size and apparent strength, it +did not seem to them prudent to espouse the side of Hector. + +"Don't you think I ought to teach him a lesson?" + +"Yes!" cried several of the smaller boys, who stood in awe of the +bully. + +Hector smiled slightly, but did not seem in the least intimidated. + +"Jim," said Wilkins, "the boy's guardian is inside with your uncle." + +This was meant as a warning, and received as such. A boy's guardian +is presumed to be his friend, and it would not be exactly prudent, +while the guardian was closeted with the principal, to make an +assault upon the pupil. + +"Very well," said Jim; "we'll postpone Roscoe's case. This afternoon +will do as well. Come, boys, let us go on with the game." + +"What made you speak to Jim in that way?" expostulated Wilkins. "I'm +afraid you've got into hot water." + +"Didn't I tell the truth about him?" + +"Yes," answered Wilkins, cautiously; "but you've made an enemy of +him." + +"I was sure to do that, sooner or later," said Hector, +unconcernedly. "It might as well be now as any time." + +"Do you know what he'll do this afternoon?" + +"What will he do?" + +"He'll give you a thrashing." + +"Without asking my permission?" asked Hector, smiling. + +"You're a queer boy! Of course, he won't trouble himself about that. +You don't seem to mind it," he continued, eying Hector curiously. + +"Oh, no." + +"Perhaps you think Jim can't hurt. I know better than that." + +"Did he ever thrash you, then?" + +"Half a dozen times." + +"Why didn't you tell his uncle?" + +"It would be no use. Jim would tell his story, and old Sock would +believe him. But here's Mr. Crabb, the usher, the man I was to +introduce you to." + +Hector looked up, and saw advancing a young man, dressed in rusty +black, with a meek and long-suffering expression, as one who was +used to being browbeaten. He was very shortsighted, and wore +eyeglasses. + + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +IN THE SCHOOLROOM. + + + + + +"Mr. Crabb," said Wilkins, "this is the new scholar, Roscoe. Mr. +Smith asked me to bring him to you." + +"Ah, indeed!" said Crabb, adjusting his glasses, which seemed to sit +uneasily on his nose. "I hope you are well, Roscoe?" + +"Thank you, sir; my health is good." + +"The schoolbell will ring directly. Perhaps you had better come into +the schoolroom and select a desk." + +"Very well, sir." + +"Are you a classical scholar, Roscoe?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"And how far may you have gone now?" queried Crabb. + +"I was reading the fifth book of Virgil when I left off study." + +"Really, you are quite a scholar. I suppose you don't know any +Greek?" + +"I was in the second book of the Anabasis." + +"You will go into the first class, then. I hope you will become one +of the ornaments of the institute." + +"Thank you. Is the first class under Mr. Smith?" + +"No; I teach the first class," said Crabb, with a modest cough. + +"I thought the principal usually took the first class himself?" + +"Mr. Smith comes into the room occasionally and supervises, but he +has too much business on hand to teach regularly himself." + +"Is Mr. Smith a good scholar?" asked Hector. + +"Ahem!" answered Mr. Crabb, evidently embarrassed; "I presume so. +You should not ask Ahem! irrelevant questions." + +In fact, Mr. Crabb had serious doubts as to the fact assumed. He +knew that whenever a pupil went to the principal to ask a question +in Latin or Greek, he was always referred to Crabb himself, or some +other teacher. This, to be sure, proved nothing, but in an unguarded +moment, Mr. Smith had ventured to answer a question himself, and his +answer was ludicrously incorrect. + +The schoolroom was a moderate-sized, dreary-looking room, with +another smaller room opening out of it, which was used as a separate +recitation room. + +"Here is a vacant desk," said Mr. Crabb, pointing out one centrally +situated. + +"I think that will do. Who sits at the next desk?" + +"Mr. Smith's nephew." + +"Oh, that big bully I saw on the playground?" + +"Hush!" said Crabb, apprehensively. "Mr. Smith would not like to +have you speak so of his nephew." + +"So, Mr. Crabb is afraid of the cad," soliloquized Hector. "I +suppose I may think what I please about him," he added, smiling +pleasantly. + +"Ye-es, of course; but, Master Roscoe, let me advise you to be +prudent." + +"Is he in your class?" + +"Yes." + +"Is he much of a scholar?" + +"I don't think he cares much for Latin and Greek," answered Mr. +Crabb. "But I must ring the bell. I see that it wants but five +minutes of nine." + +"About my desk?" + +"Here is another vacant desk, but it is not as well located." + +"Never mind. I will take it. I shall probably have a better +neighbor." + +The bell was rung. Another teacher appeared, an elderly man, who +looked as if all his vitality had been expended on his thirty years +of teaching. He, too, was shabbily dressed--his coat being shiny and +napless, and his vest lacking two out of the five original buttons. + +"I guess Smith doesn't pay very high salaries," thought Hector. +"Poor fellows. His teachers look decidedly seedy." + +The boys began to pour in, not only those on the playground, but as +many more who lived in the village, and were merely day scholars. +Jim Smith stalked in with an independent manner and dropped into his +seat carelessly. He looked around him patronizingly. He felt that he +was master of the situation. Both ushers and all the pupils stood in +fear of him, as he well knew. Only to his uncle did he look up as +his superior, and he took care to be on good terms with him, as it +was essential to the maintenance of his personal authority. + +Last of all, Mr. Smith, the learned principal, walked into the +schoolroom with the air of a commanding general, followed by Allan +Roscoe, who he had invited to see the school in operation. + +Socrates Smith stood upright behind his desk, and waved his hand +majestically. + +"My young friends," he said; "this is a marked day. We have with us +a new boy, who is henceforth to be one of us, to be a member of our +happy family, to share in the estimable advantages which you all +enjoy. Need I say that I refer to Master Roscoe, the ward of our +distinguished friend, Mr. Allan Roscoe, who sits beside me, and with +interest, I am sure, surveys our institute?" + +As he spoke he turned towards Mr. Roscoe, who nodded an +acknowledgment. + +"I may say to Mr. Roscoe that I am proud of my pupils, and the +progress they have made under my charge. (The principal quietly +ignored the two ushers who did all the teaching.) When these boys +have reached a high position in the world, it will be my proudest +boast that they were prepared for the duties of life at Smith +Institute. Compared with this proud satisfaction, the few paltry +dollars I exact as my honorarium are nothing--absolutely nothing." + +Socrates looked virtuous and disinterested as he gave utterance to +this sentiment. + +"And now, boys, you will commence your daily exercises, under the +direction of my learned associates, Mr. Crabb and Mr. Jones." + +Mr. Crabb looked feebly complacent at this compliment, though he +knew it was only because a visitor was present. In private, Socrates +was rather apt to speak slightingly of his attainments. + +"While I am absent with my distinguished friend, Mr. Roscoe, I +expect you to pursue your studies diligently, and preserve the most +perfect order." + +With these words, the stately figure of Socrates passed through the +door, followed by Mr. Roscoe. + +"A pleasant sight, Mr. Roscoe," said the principal; "this company of +ambitious, aspiring students, all pressing forward eagerly in +pursuit of learning?" + +"Quite true, sir," answered Allan Roscoe. + +"I wish you could stay with us for a whole day, to inspect at your +leisure the workings of our educational system." + +"Thank you, Mr. Smith," answered Mr. Roscoe, with an inward shudder; +"but I have important engagements that call me away immediately." + +"Then we must reluctantly take leave of you. I hope you will feel +easy about your nephew--" + +"My ward," corrected Allan Roscoe. + +"I beg your pardon--I should have remembered--your ward." + +"I leave him, with confidence, in your hands, my dear sir." + +So Allan Roscoe took his leave. + +Let us look in upon the aspiring and ambitious scholars, after Mr. +Smith left them in charge of the ushers. + +Jim Smith signalized his devotion to study by producing an apple +core, and throwing it with such skillful aim that it struck Mr. +Crabb in the back of the head. + +The usher turned quickly, his face flushed with wild indignation. + +"Who threw that missile?" he asked, in a vexed tone. + +Of course no one answered. + +"I hope no personal disrespect was intended," continued the usher. + +Again no answer. + +"Does anyone know who threw it?" asked Mr. Crabb. + +"I think it was the new scholar," said Jim Smith, with a malicious +look at Hector. + +"Master Roscoe," said Mr. Crabb, with a pained look, "I hope you +have not started so discreditably in your school life." + +"No, sir," answered Hector; "I hope I am not so ungentlemanly. I +don't like to be an informer, but I saw Smith himself throw it at +you. As he has chosen to lay it to me, I have no hesitation in +exposing him." + +Jim Smith's face flushed with anger. + +"I'll get even with you, you young muff!" he said. + +"Whenever you please!" said Hector, disdainfully. + +"Really, young gentlemen, these proceedings are very irregular!" +said Mr. Crabb, feebly. + +With Jim Smith he did not remonstrate at all, though he had no doubt +that Hector's charge was rightly made. + + + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +THE CLASS IN VIRGIL. + + + + + +Presently the class in Virgil was called up. To this class Hector +had been assigned, though it had only advanced about half through +the third book of the AEneid, while Hector was in the fifth. + +"As there is no other class in Virgil, Roscoe, you had better join +the one we have. It will do you no harm to review." + +"Very well, sir," said Hector. + +The class consisted of five boys, including Hector. Besides Jim +Smith, Wilkins, Bates and Johnson belonged to it. As twenty-five +lines had been assigned for a lesson, Hector had no difficulty in +preparing himself, and that in a brief time. The other boys were +understood to have studied the lesson out of school. + +Bates read first, and did very fairly. Next came Jim Smith, who did +not seem quite so much at home in Latin poetry as on the playground. +He pronounced the Latin words in flagrant violation of all the rules +of quantity, and when he came to give the English meaning, his +translation was a ludicrous farrago of nonsense. Yet, poor Mr. Crabb +did not dare, apparently, to characterize it as it deserved. + +"I don't think you have quite caught the author's meaning, Mr. +Smith," he said. By the way, Jim was the only pupil to whose name he +prefixed the title "Mr." + +"I couldn't make anything else out of it," muttered Jim. + +"Perhaps some other member of the class may have been more +successful! Johnson, how do you read it?" + +"I don't understand it very well, sir." + +"Wilkins, were you more successful?" + +"No, sir." + +"Roscoe, can you translate the passage?" + +"I think so, sir." + +"Proceed, then." + +Hector at once gave a clear and luminous rendering of the passage, +and his version was not only correct, but was expressed in decent +English. This is a point in which young classical scholars are apt +to fail. + +Mr. Crabb was not in the habit of hearing such good translations, +and he was surprised and gratified. + +"Very well! Very well, indeed, Roscoe," he said, approvingly. "Mr. +Smith, you may go on." + +"He'd better go ahead and finish it," said Smith, sulkily. "He +probably got it out of a pony." + +My young readers who are in college or classical schools, will +understand that a "pony" is an English translation of a classical +author. + +"He is mistaken!" said Hector, quietly. "I have never seen a +translation of Virgil." + +Mr. Smith shrugged his shoulders, and drew down the corners of his +mouth, intending thereby to express his incredulity. + +"I hope no boy will use a translation," said the usher; "it will +make his work easier for the time being, but in the end it will +embarrass him. Roscoe, as you have commenced, you may continue. +Translate the remainder of the passage." + +Hector did so, exhibiting equal readiness. + +The other boys took their turns, and then words were given out to +parse. Here Jim Smith showed himself quite at sea; though the usher, +as it was evident, selected the easiest words for him, he made a +mistake in every one. Apparently he was by no means certain which of +the words were nouns, and which verbs, and as to the relations which +they sustained to other words in the sentence he appeared to have +very little conception. + +At length the recitation was over. It had demonstrated one thing, +that in Latin scholarship Hector was far more accurate and +proficient than any of his classmates, while Jim Smith stood far +below all the rest. + +"What in the world can the teacher be thinking of, to keep such an +ignoramus in the class?" thought Hector. "He doesn't know enough to +join a class in the Latin Reader." + +The fact was, that Jim Smith was unwilling to give up his place as a +member of the highest class in Latin, because he knew it would +detract from his rank in the school. Mr. Crabb, to whom every +recitation was a torture, had one day ventured to suggest that it +would be better to drop into the Caesar class; but he never ventured +to make the suggestion again, so unfavorably was it received by his +backward pupil. He might, in the case of a different pupil, have +referred the matter to the principal, but Socrates Smith was sure to +decide according to the wishes of his nephew, and did not himself +possess knowledge enough of the Latin tongue to detect his gross +mistakes. + +After a time came recess. Hector wished to arrange the books in his +desk, and did not go out. + +Mr. Crabb came up to his desk and said: "Roscoe, I must compliment +you on your scholarship. You enter at the head. You are in advance +of all the other members of the class." + +"Thank you, sir," said Hector, gratified. + +"There is one member of the class who is not competent to remain in +it." + +"Yes, sir; I observed that." + +"But he is unwilling to join a lower class. It is a trial to me to +hear his daily failures, but, perhaps, he would do no better +anywhere else. He would be as incompetent to interpret Caesar as +Virgil, I am afraid." + +"So I should suppose, sir." + +"By the way, Roscoe," said the usher, hurriedly; "let me caution you +against irritating Smith. He is the principal's nephew, and so we +give him more scope." + +"He seems to me a bully," said Hector. + +"So he is." + +"I can't understand why the boys should give in to him as they do." + +"He is taller and stronger than the other boys. Besides, he is +backed up by the principal. I hope you won't get into difficulty +with him." + +"Thank you, Mr. Crabb. Your caution is kindly meant, but I am not +afraid of this Jim--Smith. I am quite able to defend myself if +attacked." + +"I hope so," said the usher; but he scanned Hector's physical +proportions doubtfully, and it was very clear that he did not think +him a match for the young tyrant of the school. + +Meanwhile, Jim Smith and his schoolfellows were amusing themselves +in the playground. + +"Where's that new fellow?" asked Jim, looking back to see whether he +had come out. + +"He didn't come out," said Bates. + +Jim nodded his head vigorously: + +"Just as I expected," he said. "He knows where he is well off." + +"Do you think he was afraid to come?" asked Bates. + +"To be sure he was. He knew what to expect." + +"Are you going to thrash him?" asked Johnson. + +"I should say I might." + +"He's a very good Latin scholar," remarked Wilkins. + +"He thinks he is!" sneered Jim. + +"So Mr. Crabb appears to think." + +"That for old Crabb!" said Jim, contemptuously, snapping his +fingers. "He don't know much himself. I've caught him in plenty of +mistakes." + +This was certainly very amusing, considering Smith's absolute +ignorance of even the Latin rudiments, but the boys around him did +not venture to contradict him. + +"But it don't make any difference whether he knows Latin or not," +proceeded Jim. "He has been impudent to me, and he shall suffer for +it. I was hoping to get a chance at him this recess, but it'll +keep." + +"You might spoil his appetite for dinner," said Bates, who was +rather a toady to Jim. + +"That's just exactly what I expect to do; at any rate, for supper. +I've got to have a reckoning with that young muff." + +The recess lasted fifteen minutes. At the end of that time the +schoolbell rang, and the boys trooped back into the schoolroom. + +Hector sat at his desk looking tranquil and at ease. He alone seemed +unaware of the fate that was destined for him. + + + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +DINNER AT SMITH INSTITUTE. + + + + + +At twelve o'clock the morning session closed. Then came an +intermission of an hour, during which the day scholars either ate +lunch brought with them, or went to their homes in the village to +partake of a warm repast. + +At ten minutes past twelve, a red-armed servant girl made her +appearance at the back door looking out on the playground, and rang +a huge dinner bell. The boys dropped their games, and made what +haste they could to the dining room. + +"Now for a feast!" said Wilkins to Hector, significantly. + +"Does Mr. Smith furnish good board?" asked Hector, for he felt the +hunger of a healthy boy who had taken an early breakfast. + +"Good grub?" said Wilkins, making a face. "Wait till you see. Old +Sock isn't going to ruin himself providing his pupils with the +delicacies of the season." + +"I'm sorry for that. I am confoundedly hungry." + +"Hungry!" exclaimed Wilkins. "I've been I hungry ever since I came +here." + +"Is it as bad as that?" asked Hector, rather alarmed. + +"I should say so. I haven't had a square meal--what I call a square +meal--for four weeks, and that's just the time since I left home." + +They had reached the door of the dining-room by this time. + +In the center stood a long table, but there didn't seem to be much +on it except empty plates. At a side table stood Mrs. Smith, ladling +out soup from a large tureen. + +"That's the first course," whispered Wilkins. "I hope you'll like +it." + +The boys filed in and took seats. The servant girl already referred +to began to bring plates of soup and set before the boys. It was a +thin, unwholesome-looking mixture, with one or two small pieces of +meat, about the size of a chestnut, in each plate, and fragments of +potatoes and carrots. A small, triangular wedge of dry bread was +furnished with each portion of soup. + +"We all begin to eat together. Don't be in a hurry," said Wilkins, +in a low tone. + +When all the boys were served, Socrates Smith, who sat in an +armchair at the head of the table, said: + +"Boys, we are now about to partake of the bounties of Providence, +let me hope, with grateful hearts." + +He touched a hand bell, and the boys took up their soup spoons. + +Hector put a spoonful gingerly into his mouth, and then, stopping +short, looked at Wilkins. His face was evidently struggling not to +express disgust. + +"Is it always as bad?" he asked, in a whisper. + +"Yes," answered Wilkins, shrugging his shoulders. + +"But you eat it!" + +Wilkins had already swallowed his third spoonful. + +"I don't want to starve," answered Wilkins, significantly. "You'll +get used to it in time." + +Hector tried to dispose of a second spoonful, but he had to give it +up. At home he was accustomed to a luxurious table, and this meal +seemed to be a mere mockery. Yet he felt hungry. So he took up the +piece of bread at the side of his plate, and, though it was dry, he +succeeded in eating it. + +By this time his left-hand neighbor, a boy named Colburn, had +finished his soup. He looked longingly at Hector's almost untasted +plate. + +"Ain't you going to eat your soup?" he asked, in a hoarse whisper + +"No." + +"Give it to me?" + +"Yes." + +In a trice, Colburn had appropriated Hector's plate and put his own +empty one in its place. Just after this transfer had been made, Mr. +Smith looked over to where Hector was sitting. He observed the empty +plate, and said to himself: "That new boy has been gorging himself. +He must have a terrible appetite. Well, that's one good thing, he +ain't dainty. Some boys turn up their noses at plain, wholesome +diet. I didn't know but he might." + +Presently the hand bell rang again, and the soup plates were +removed. In their places were set dinner plates, containing a small +section each of corned beef, with a consumptive-looking potato, very +probably "soggy." At any rate, this was the case with Hector's. He +succeeded in eating the meat, but not the potato. + +"Give me your potato?" asked his left-hand neighbor. + +"Yes." + +It was quickly appropriated. Hector looked with some curiosity at +the boy who did so much justice to boarding-school fare. He was a +thin, pale boy, who looked as if he had been growing rapidly, as, +indeed, he had. This, perhaps, it was that stimulated his appetite. +Afterward Hector asked him if he really liked his meals. + +"No," he said; "they're nasty." + +He was an English boy, which accounted for his use of the last word. + +"You eat them as if you liked them," remarked Hector. + +"I'm so hungry," apologized Colburn, mournfully. "I'm always hungry. +I eat to fill up, not 'cause I like it. I could eat anything." + +"I believe he could," said Wilkins, who overheard this conversation. +"Could you eat fried cat, now?" he asked. + +"Yes," answered Colburn, honestly. "There would be something hearty +and filling about fried cat. I ain't half full now." + +It was just after dinner. + +Hector might have said the same thing at the end of his first +dinner. There was, indeed, another course. It consisted of some +pale, flabby apple pie, about half baked. The slices given were +about half the size of those that are ordinarily supplied at private +tables and restaurants. Hector managed to eat the apple, but the +crust he was obliged to leave. He noticed, however, that his fellow +pupils were not so fastidious. + +When the last fragment of pie had disappeared, Mr. Smith again rang +the hand bell. + +"Boys," he said, "we have now satisfied our appetites." + +"I haven't," thought Hector. + +"We have once more experienced the bountiful goodness of Providence +in supplying our material wants. As we sit down to our plain but +wholesome diet, I wonder how many of us are sensible of our good +fortune. I wonder how many of us think of the thousands of poor +children, scattered about the world, who know not where to get their +daily bread. You have been refreshed, and have reinforced your +strength; you will soon be ready to resume your studies, and thus, +also, take in a supply of mental food, for, as you are all aware, or +ought to be aware, the mind needs to be fed as well as the body. +There will first be a short season for games and out-of-door +amusements. Mr. Crabb, will you accompany the boys to the playground +and superintend their sports?" + +Mr. Crabb also had participated in the rich feast, and rose with the +same unsatisfied but resigned look which characterized the rest. He +led the way to the playground, and the boys trooped after him. + +"Really, Wilkins," said Hector, in a low tone, "this is getting +serious. Isn't there any place outside where one can get something +to eat?" + +"There's a baker's half a mile away, but you can't go till after +afternoon session." + +"Show me the way there, then, and I'll buy something for both of +us." + +"All right," said Wilkins, brightening up. + +"By the way, I didn't see Jim Smith at the table." + +"No; he eats with his uncle and aunt afterward. You noticed that old +Sock didn't eat just now." + +"Yes, I wondered at it." + +"He has something a good deal better afterward. He wouldn't like our +dinner any better than we did; but he is better off, for he needn't +eat it." + +"So Jim fares better than the rest of us, does he?" + +"Yes, he's one of the family, you know." + +Just then pleasant fumes were wafted to the boys' nostrils, and they +saw through the open window, with feelings that cannot well be +described, a pair of roast chickens carried from the kitchen to the +dining-room. + +"See what old Sock and Ma'am Sock are going to have for dinner?" +said Wilkins, enviously. + +"I don't like to look at it. It is too tantalizing," said Hector. + + + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +HECTOR RECEIVES A SUMMONS. + + + + + +It so happened that Hector was well provided with money. During the +life of Mr. Roscoe, whom he regarded as his father, he had a liberal +allowance--liberal beyond his needs--and out of it had put by +somewhat over a hundred dollars. The greater part of this was +deposited for safe-keeping in a savings bank, but he had twenty-five +dollars in his possession. + +At the time he was saving his money, he regarded himself as the heir +and future possessor of the estate, and had no expectation of ever +needing it. It had been in his mind that it would give him an +opportunity of helping, out of his private funds, any deserving poor +person who might apply to him. When the unexpected revelation had +been made to him that he had no claim to the estate, he was glad +that he was not quite penniless. He did not care to apply for money +to Allan Roscoe. It would have been a confession of dependence, and +very humiliating to him. + +No sooner was school out, than he asked Wilkins to accompany him to +the baker's, that he might make up for the deficiencies of Mr. +Smith's meager table. + +"I suppose, if I guide you, you'll stand treat, Roscoe?" said +Wilkins. + +"Of course." + +"Then let us go," said his schoolfellow, with alacrity. "I'd like to +get the taste of that beastly dinner out of my mouth." + +They found the baker's, but close beside it was a restaurant, where +more substantial fare could be obtained. + +"Wilkins," said Hector, "I think I would rather have a plate of +meat." + +"All right! I'm with you." + +So the two boys went into the restaurant, and ordered plates of +roast beef, which they ate with evident enjoyment. + +"I guess," said the waiter, grinning, "you two chaps come from the +institute." + +"Yes," answered Hector. "What makes you think so?" + +"The way you eat. They do say old Smith half starves the boys." + +"You're not far from right," said Wilkins; "but it isn't alone the +quantity, but the quality that's amiss." + +They ate their dinner, leaving not a crumb, and then rose refreshed. + +"I feel splendid," said Wilkins. "I just wish I boarded at the +restaurant instead of the doctor's. Thank you, Roscoe, for inviting +me." + +"All right, Wilkins! We'll come again some day." + +Somehow the extra dinner seemed to warm the heart of Wilkins, and +inspire in him a feeling of friendly interest for Hector. + +"I say, Hector, I'll tell you something." + +"Go ahead." + +"You've got to keep your eyes open." + +"I generally do," answered Hector, smiling, "except at night." + +"I mean when Jim Smith's round." + +"Why particularly when he is around?" + +"Because he means to thrash you." + +"What for?" + +"You are too independent. You don't bow down to him, and look up to +him." + +"I don't mean to," said Hector, promptly. + +"If you don't you'll see trouble, and that very soon." + +"Let it come!" said Hector, rather contemptuously. + +"You don't seem afraid!" said Wilkins, regarding him curiously. + +"Because I am not afraid. Isn't that a good reason?" + +"You don't think you can stand up against Jim, do you?" + +"I will see when the time comes." + +"I shouldn't be a bit surprised if he were looking out for you at +this very moment, and wondering where you are." + +It seemed that Wilkins was right. As they approached the school +grounds, John Bates came running to meet them. + +"Where have you been, you two?" he said. + +"To the village," answered Wilkins. + +"What for?" + +"For a walk," answered Wilkins, with a warning glance at Hector. It +would have been awkward if the principal had heard that they had +been compelled to eke out their meager dinner at a restaurant. + +"Well, Jim wants you. Leastways, he wants Roscoe." + +Bates looked as if he expected Roscoe would immediately hasten to +comply with the wishes of the redoubtable Jim. + +"If he wants me, he can come to me," said Hector, independently. + +"But I say, that won't do. Jim won't be satisfied." + +"Won't he? I don't know that that particularly concerns me." + +"Shall I tell him that?" + +"If you choose." + +Bates looked as if Hector had been guilty of some enormity. What, +defy the wishes, the mandates, of Jim Smith, the king of the school +and the tyrant of all the small boys! He felt that Hector Roscoe was +rushing on his fate. + +"I advise you to come," he said, "Jim's mad with you already, and +he'll lick you worse if you send him a message like that." + +"He will probably have to take blows, as well as give them," said +Hector. + +"Then I am to tell him what you said?" + +"Of course." + +With a look that seemed to say, "Your fate be on your own head!" +Bates walked away. + +"John Bates is always toadying to Jim," said Wilkins. "So he's prime +favorite when Jim is good-natured--when he's cross, I've seen him +kick Bates." + +"And Bates didn't resent it?" + +"He didn't dare to. He'd come round him the next day the same as +ever." + +"Has the boy no self-respect?" asked Hector, in a tone of disgust. + +"He doesn't seem to have." + +As soon as school was out, Jim Smith had looked round for the new +boy, who seemed disposed to defy his authority. On account of eating +at different tables, they had not met during the noon intermission. +At any rate, there had not been time to settle the question of +subserviency. Through the afternoon session Jim had been +anticipating the signal punishment which he intended to inflict upon +the newcomer. + +"I'll show him!" he said to himself. "Tomorrow he'll be singing a +different tune, or I am mistaken." + +This was the way Jim had been accustomed to break in refractory new +arrivals. The logic of his fist usually proved a convincing +argument, and thus far his supremacy had never been successfully +resisted. He was confident that he would not be interfered with. +Secretly, his Uncle Socrates sympathized with him, and relished the +thought that his nephew, who so strongly resembled him in mind and +person, should be the undisputed boss--to use a word common in +political circles--of the school. He discreetly ignored the +conflicts which he knew took place, and if any luckless boy, the +victim of Jim's brutality, ventured to appeal to him, the boy soon +found that he himself was arraigned, and not the one who had abused +him. + +"Where's that new boy?" asked Jim, as he left the schoolroom. + +He had not seen our hero's departure--but his ready tool, Bates, +had. + +"I saw him sneaking off with Wilkins," said Bates. + +"Where did they go?" + +"To the Village, I guess." + +"They seemed to be in a hurry," said Jim, with a sneer. + +"They wanted to get out of your way--that is, the new boy did," +suggested Bates. + +Jim nodded. + +"Likely he did," he answered. "So he went to the village, did he?" + +"Yes; I saw him." + +"Well, he's put it off a little. That boy's cranky. I'm goin' to +give him a lesson he won't forget very soon." + +"So you will, so you will, Jim," chuckled Bates. + +"That's the way I generally take down these boys that put on airs," +said Jim, complacently. "This Roscoe's the worst case I've had yet. +So Wilkins went off with him, did he?" + +"Yes; I saw them go off together." + +"I'll have to give Wilkins a little reminder, then. It won't be safe +to take up with them that defy me. I'll just give him a kick to help +his memory." + +"He won't like that much, oh, my!" chuckled Bates. + +"When you see them coming, Bates, go and tell Roscoe I want to see +him," said Jim, with the air of an autocrat. + +"All right, Jim," said Bates, obediently. + +So he went on his errand, and we know what success he met with. + + + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +THE IMPENDING CONFLICT. + + + + + +Jim Smith stood leaning indolently against a post, when his +emissary, Bates, returned from his errand. He was experiencing "that +stern joy" which bullies feel just before an encounter with a foeman +inferior in strength, whom they expect easily to master. Several of +the boys were near by--sycophantic followers of Jim, who were +enjoying in advance the rumpus they expected. I am afraid schoolboys +do not always sympathize with the weaker side. In the present +instance, there was hardly a boy who had not at some time or other +felt the weight of Jim's fist, and, as there is an old saying that +"misery loves company," it was not, perhaps, a matter of wonder that +they looked forward with interest to seeing another suffer the same +ill-treatment which they had on former occasions received! + +Presently Bates came back. + +Jim looked over his head for the boy whom he expected to see in his +company. + +"Where's the new boy?" he demanded, with a frown. + +"He won't come." + +"Won't come?" repeated Jim, with an ominous frown. "Did you tell him +I wanted him?" + +"Yes, I did." + +"And what did he say?" + +"That if you wanted to see him, you could come to him." + +All the boys regarded each other with looks of surprise. Was it +possible that any boy in Smith Institute could have the boldness to +send such a message to Jim! Most of all, Jim was moved by such a +bold defiance of his authority. For the moment, he could not think +of any adequate terms in which to express his feelings. + +"Did the new boy say that?" he asked, hoarsely. + +"Yes, he did." + +Jim nodded his head vigorously two or three times. + +"You fellows," he said, appealing to the boys around him, "did you +ever hear such impudence?" + +"No!" "Never!" exclaimed the boys in concert, Bates being the +loudest and most emphatic. + +"I have never been so insulted since I was at the institute," said +Jim, again looking about him for a confirmation of his statement. + +"It's because he's a new boy. He don't understand," suggested one. + +"That's no excuse," said Jim, sternly. "He needn't think I'll let +him off on that account." + +"Of course not," answered Bates. + +"What would you advise me to do, boys?" asked Jim, with the air of a +monarch asking the opinion of his counselors. + +"Thrash him till he can't stand!" said the subservient Bates. He was +always ready to go farther than anyone else in supporting and +defending the authority of the tyrant of the playground. + +"Bates, you are right. I shall follow your advice," said Jim. "Where +is the young reprobate?" + +"He is over in Carver's field." + +"Is anyone with him?" + +"Yes, Wilkins." + +"Ha! Wilkins and I will have an account to settle. If he is going to +side with this young rascal he must take the consequences. So, he's +over in the field, is he? What's he doing?" + +"I think he was going to walk down to the brook." + +Carver's field was a tract, several acres in extent, of pasture +land, sloping down to one corner, where a brook trickled along +quietly. Here three large trees were located, under whose spreading +branches the boys, in the intervals of study, used often to stretch +themselves for a chat or engage in some schoolboy games, such as +nimble peg or quoits. The owner of the field was an easy-going man, +who did not appear to be troubled by the visits of the boys, as long +as they did not maltreat the peaceful cows who gathered their +subsistence from the scanty grass that grew there. + +"He wants to keep out of your way, I guess," volunteered Bates. + +As this suggestion was flattering to the pride of the "boss," it was +graciously received. + +"Very likely," he said; "but he'll find that isn't so easy. Boys, +follow me, if you want to see some fun." + +Jim started with his loose stride for the field, where he expected +to meet his adversary, or, rather, victim, for so he considered him, +and the smaller boys followed him with alacrity. There was going to +be a scrimmage, and they all wanted to see it. + +Jim and his followers issued from the gate, and, crossing the +street, scaled the bars that separated Carver's field from the +highway. Already they could see the two boys--Roscoe and +Wilkins-slowly walking, and nearly arrived at the brook in the lower +part of the field. + +"He doesn't seem much afraid," remarked Talbot, one of the recent +comers, incautiously. + +Upon him immediately Jim frowned ominously. + +"So you are taking sides with him, Talbot, are you?" he said, +imperiously. + +"No, Jim," answered Talbot, hurriedly, for he now saw that he had +been guilty of an imprudence. + +"What made you say he wasn't scared, then?" + +"I only said he didn't seem afraid," answered Talbot, +apologetically. + +"Be careful what you say in future, young fellow!" said Jim, +sternly; "that is, if you are a friend of mine. If you are going +over to Roscoe, you can go, and I shall know how to treat you." + +"But I am not going over to him. I don't like him," said the +cowardly boy. + +"Very well; I accept your apology this time. In future be careful +what you say." + +By this time Wilkins and Roscoe had reached the clump of big trees, +and had seated themselves under their ample branches. Then, for the +first time, glancing backward toward the school, they became aware +of the advancing troop of boys. Wilkins saw them first. + +"There's Jim coming!" he exclaimed. "Now you are in a pickle. He +means business." + +"I suppose," said Hector, coolly, "he has decided to accept my +invitation, and come to see me." + +"You'll find he has," said Wilkins, significantly. + +"He seems to have considerable company," remarked Hector, scanning +the approaching party with tranquillity. + +"They're coming to see the fun!" said Wilkins. + +"I suppose you mean the fight between Jim Smith and myself." + +"Well, not exactly. They've come to see you thrashed." + +Hector smiled. + +"Suppose they should see Jim thrashed instead--what then?" + +"They might be surprised: but I don't think they will be," answered +Wilkins, dryly. He was, on the whole, well disposed toward Hector, +and he certainly disliked Jim heartily, but he did not allow his +judgment to be swayed by his preferences, and he could foresee but +one issue to the impending conflict. There was one thing that +puzzled him exceedingly, and that was Hector's coolness on the brink +of a severe thrashing, such as Jim was sure to give him for his +daring defiance and disregard of his authority. + +"You're a queer boy, Hector," he said. "You don't seem in the least +alarmed." + +"I am not in the least alarmed," answered Hector. "Why should I be?" + +"You don't mind being thrashed, then?" + +"I might mind; but I don't mean to be thrashed if I can help it." + +"But you can't help it, you know." + +"Well, that will soon be decided." + +There was no time for any further conversation, for Jim and his +followers were close at hand. + +Jim opened the campaign by calling Hector to account. + +"Look here, you new boy," he said, "didn't Bates tell you that I +wanted to see you?" + +"Yes," answered Hector, looking up, indifferently. + +"Well, why didn't you come to me at once, hey?" + +"Because I didn't choose to. I sent word if you wished to see me, to +come where I was." + +"What do you mean by such impudence, hey?" + +"I mean this, Jim Smith, that you have no authority over me and +never will have. I have not been here long, but I have been here +long enough to find out that you are a cowardly bully and ruffian. +How all these boys can give in to you, I can't understand." + +Jim Smith almost foamed at the mouth with rage. + +"You'll pay for this," he howled, pulling off his coat, in furious +haste. + + + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +WHO SHALL BE VICTOR? + + + + + +Hector was not slow to accept the challenge conveyed by his +antagonist's action. He, too, sprang to his feet, flung off his +coat, and stood facing the bully. + +Hector was three inches shorter, and more than as many years +younger, than Jim. But his figure was well proportioned and strongly +put together, as the boys could see. On the other hand; Jim Smith +was loosely put together, and, though tall, he was not well +proportioned. His arms were long and his movements were clumsy. His +frame, however, was large, and he had considerable strength, but it +had never been disciplined. He had never learned to box, and was +ignorant of the first rudiments of the art of self-defense. But he +was larger and stronger than any of his school-fellows, and he had +thus far had no difficulty in overcoming opposition to his despotic +rule. + +The boys regarded the two combatants with intense interest. They +could see that Hector was not alarmed, and meant to defend himself. +So there was likely to be a contest, although they could not but +anticipate an easy victory for the hitherto champion of the school. + +Hector did not propose to make the attack. He walked forward to a +favorable place and took his stand. The position he assumed would +have assured the casual observer that he knew something of the art +in which his larger antagonist was deficient. + +"So you are ready to fight, are you?" said Jim. + +"You can see for yourself." + +Jim rushed forward, intending to bear down all opposition. He was +whirling his long arms awkwardly, and it was clear to see that he +intended to seize Hector about the body and fling him to the earth. +Had he managed to secure the grip he desired, opposition would have +been vain, and he would have compassed his design. But Hector was +far too wary to allow anything of this kind. He evaded Jim's grasp +by jumping backward, then dashing forward while his opponent was +somewhat unsteady from the failure of his attempt, he dealt him a +powerful blow in the face. + +Jim Smith was unprepared for such prompt action. He reeled, and came +near falling. It may safely be said, also, that his astonishment was +as great as his indignation, and that was unbounded. + +"So that's your game, is it?" he exclaimed, furiously. "I'll pay you +for this, see if I don't." + +Hector did not reply. He did not propose to carry on the battle by +words. Already the matter had come to a sterner arbitrament, and he +stood on the alert, all his senses under absolute control, watching +his big antagonist, and, from the expression of his face, seeking to +divine his next mode of attack. He had this advantage over Jim, that +he was cool and collected, while Jim was angry and rendered +imprudent by his anger. Notwithstanding his first repulse, he did +not fully understand that the new boy was a much more formidable +opponent than he anticipated. Nor did he appreciate the advantage +which science gives over brute force. He, therefore, rushed forward +again, with the same impetuosity as before, and was received in +precisely the same way. This time the blood started from his nose +and coursed over his inflamed countenance, while Hector was still +absolutely unhurt. + +Meanwhile the boys looked on in decided amazement. It had been as +far as possible from their thoughts that Hector could stand up +successfully against the bully even for an instant. Yet here two +attacks had been made, and the champion was decidedly worsted. They +could not believe the testimony of their eyes. + +Carried away by the excitement of the moment, Wilkins, who, as we +have said, was disposed to espouse the side of Hector, broke into a +shout of encouragement. + +"Good boy, Roscoe!" he exclaimed. "You're doing well!" + +Two or three of the other boys, those who were least under the +domination of Jim, and were only waiting for an opportunity of +breaking away from their allegiance, echoed the words of Wilkins. If +there was anything that could increase the anger and mortification +of the tyrant it was these signs of failing allegiance. What! was he +to lose his hold over these boys, and that because he was unable to +cope with a boy much smaller and younger than himself? Perish the +thought! It nerved him to desperation, and he prepared for a still +more impetuous assault. + +Somewhere in his Greek reader, Hector had met with a saying +attributed to Pindar, that "boldness is the beginning of victory." +He felt that the time had now come for a decisive stroke. He did not +content himself, therefore, with parrying, or simply repelling the +blow of his antagonist, but he on his part assumed the offensive. He +dealt his blows with bewildering rapidity, pressed upon Jim, +skillfully evading the grasp of his long arms, and in a trice the +champion measured his length upon the greensward. + +Of course, he did not remain there. He sprang to his feet, and +renewed the attack. But he had lost his confidence. He was +bewildered, and, to confess the truth, panic-stricken, and the +second skirmish was briefer than the first. + +When, for the third time, he fell back, with his young opponent +standing erect and vigorous, the enthusiasm of the boys overcame the +limits of prudence. There was a shout of approval, and the fallen +champion, to add to his discomfiture, was forced to listen to his +own hitherto subservient followers shouting, "Hurrah for the new +boy! Hurrah for Hector Roscoe!" + +This was too much for Jim. + +He rose from the ground sullenly, looked about him with indignation +which he could not control, and, shaking his fist, not at one boy in +particular, but at the whole company, exclaimed: "You'll be sorry +for this, you fellows! You can leave me, and stand by the new boy if +you want to, but you'll be sorry for it. I'll thrash you one by one, +as I have often done before." + +"Try Roscoe first!" said one boy, jeeringly. + +"I'll try you first!" said Jim; and too angry to postpone his +intention, he made a rush for the offender. + +The latter, who knew he was no match for the angry bully, turned and +fled. Jim prepared to follow him, when he was brought to by Hector +placing himself in his path. + +"Let that boy alone!" he said, sternly. + +"What business is it of yours?" demanded Jim, doggedly; but he did +not offer to renew the attack, however. + +"It will be my business to put an end to your tyranny and bullying," +said Hector, undauntedly. "If you dare to touch one of these boys, +you will have to meet me as well." + +Jim had had enough of encountering Hector. He did not care to make a +humiliating spectacle of himself any more before his old flatterers. +But his resources were not at an end. + +"You think yourself mighty smart!" he said, with what was intended +to be withering sarcasm. "You haven't got through with me yet." + +He did not, however, offer to pursue the boy who had been the first +to break away from his allegiance. He put on his coat, and turned to +walk toward the school, saying, "You'll hear from me again, and that +pretty soon!" + +None of his late followers offered to accompany him. He had come to +the contest with a band of friends and supporters. He left it alone. +Even Bates, his most devoted adherent, remained behind, and did not +offer to accompany the discrowned and dethroned monarch. + +"What's Jim going to do?" asked Talbot. + +"He's going to tell old Sock, and get us all into trouble." + +"It'll be a cowardly thing to do!" said Wilkins. "He's been fairly +beaten in battle, and he ought to submit to it." + +"He won't if he can help it." + +"I say, boys, three cheers for the new boy!" exclaimed Wilkins. + +They were given with a will, and the boys pressed forward to shake +the hand of the boy whose prowess they admired. + +"Thank you, boys!" said Hector, "but I'd rather be congratulated on +something else. I would rather be a good scholar than a good +fighter." + +But the boys were evidently of a different opinion, and elevated +Hector straightway to the rank of a hero. + + + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + +SOCRATES CALLS HECTOR TO ACCOUNT. + + + + + +Jim Smith, as he walked back to the institute, nursing his wrath, +felt very much like a dethroned king. He was very anxious to be +revenged upon Hector, but the lesson he had received made him +cautious. He must get him into trouble by some means. Should he +complain to his uncle? It would involve the necessity of admitting +his defeat, unless he could gloss over the story in some way. + +This he decided to do. + +On reaching the school he sought his dormitory, and carefully wiped +away the blood from his face. Then he combed his hair and arranged +his dress, and sought his uncle. + +Mr. Smith was at his desk, looking over his accounts, and estimating +the profits of the half year, when his nephew made his appearance. + +"Uncle Socrates, I'd like to speak to you." + +"Very well, James. Proceed." + +"I want to complain of the new boy who came this morning." + +Socrates Smith looked up in genuine surprise. As a general thing, +his nephew brought few complaints, for he took the responsibility of +punishing boys he did not like himself. + +"What! Roscoe?" inquired the principal. + +"Yes." + +"Is he in any mischief?" + +"Mischief? I should say so! Why, he's a regular young Turk." + +"A young Turk? I don't think I understand you, James." + +"I mean, he's a young ruffian." + +"What has he been doing?" asked Socrates, in surprise. + +"He pitched into me a short time ago," said Jim, in some +embarrassment. + +"Pitched into you! You don't mean to say that he attacked you?" + +"Yes, I do." + +"But he's a considerably smaller boy than you, James. I am surprised +that he should have dared to attack you." + +"Yes, he is small, but he's a regular fighter." + +"I suppose you gave him a lesson?" + +"Ye-es, of course." + +"So that he won't be very likely to renew the attack." + +"Well, I don't know about that. He's tough and wiry, and understands +boxing. I found it hard work to thrash him." + +"But you did thrash him?" said Socrates, puzzled. + +"Yes." + +"Then what do you want me to do?" + +"I thought you might punish him for being quarrelsome." + +"It may be a good idea. I remember now that his uncle warned me that +he would need restraining." + +"Just so, uncle," said Jim, eagerly. "His uncle was right." + +"Well, I will give him a lecture. He will find that he cannot behave +as he pleases at Smith Institute," said Socrates, pompously. "He +will find that I do not tolerate any defiance of authority. I will +speak of it after vespers." + +"Thank you, uncle." + +"He'll get a raking down!" thought Jim, with gratification. "I'll +make it hot for him here, he may be sure of that." + +Half an hour after supper was read a brief evening service called +vespers, and then the boys' study hours commenced. During this time +they were expected to be preparing their lessons for the next day. + +The service was generally read by Socrates Smith, A. M., in person. +It was one of the few official duties he performed, and he was +generally very imposing in his manner on this occasion. + +When the service had been read on that particular evening, the +principal did not immediately give the signal for study to be +commenced. Instead, he cleared his throat, saying: + +"Boys, I have a few words to say to you. This morning a new boy made +his appearance among us. His uncle, or perhaps I should say his +guardian, attracted by the well-deserved fame of Smith Institute, +came hither to enter him among my pupils. I received him cordially, +and promised that he should share with you the rich, the inestimable +educational advantages which our humble seminary affords. I hoped he +would be an acquisition, that by his obedience and his fidelity to +duty he would shed luster on our school." + +Here Socrates blew his nose sonorously, and resumed: + +"But what has happened? On the very first day of his residence here +he brutally assaults one of our numbers, my nephew, and displays the +savage instincts of a barbarian. His uncle did well to warn me that +he would need salutary restraint." + +Hector, who had been amused by the solemn and impressive remarks of +Socrates, looked up in surprise. Had Allan Roscoe really traduced +him in this manner, after robbing him of his inheritance, as Hector +felt convinced that he had done? + +"Hector Roscoe!" said Socrates, severely; "stand up, and let me hear +what you have to say for yourself." + +Hector rose calmly, and faced the principal, by no means +awe-stricken at the grave arraignment to which he had listened. + +"I say this, Mr. Smith," he answered, "that I did not attack your +nephew till he had first attacked me. This he did without the +slightest provocation, and I defended myself, as I had a right to +do." + +"It's a lie!" muttered Jim, in a tone audible to his uncle. + +"My nephew's report is of a different character. I am disposed to +believe him." + +"I regret to say, sir, that he has made a false statement. I will +give you an account of what actually occurred. On my return from a +walk he sent a boy summoning me to his presence. As he was not a +teacher, and had no more authority over me than I over him, I +declined to obey, but sent word that if he wished to see me he could +come where I was. I then walked down to the brook in Carver's field. +He followed me, as soon as he had received my message, and, charging +me with impertinence, challenged me to a fight. Well, we had a +fight; but he attacked me first." + +"I don't know whether this account is correct or not," said +Socrates, a little nonplused by this new version of the affair. + +"I am ready to accept the decision of any one of the boys," said +Hector. + +"Bates," said Socrates, who knew that this boy was an adherent of +his nephew, "is this account of Roscoe's true?" + +Bates hesitated a moment. He was still afraid of Jim, but when he +thought of Hector's prowess, he concluded that he had better tell +the truth. + +"Yes, sir," he answered. + +Jim Smith darted an angry and menacing glance at his failing +adherent. + +"Ahem!" said Socrates, looking puzzled: "it is not quite so bad as I +supposed. I regret, however, that you have exhibited such a +quarrelsome disposition." + +"I don't think I am quarrelsome, sir," said Hector. + +"Silence, sir! I have Mr. Allan Roscoe's word for it." + +"It appears to me," said Hector, undauntedly, "that your nephew is +at least as quarrelsome as I am. He forced the fight upon me." + +"Probably you wrill not be in a hurry to attack him again," said +Socrates, under the impression that Hector had got the worst of it. + +Some of the boys smiled, but Socrates did not see it. + +"As you have probably received a lesson, I will not punish you as I +had anticipated. I will sentence you, however, to commit to memory +the first fifty lines of Virgil's 'AEneid.' Mr. Crabb, will you see +that Roscoe performs his penance?" + +"Yes, sir," said Crabb, faintly. + +"Is your nephew also to perform a penance?" asked Hector, undaunted. + +"Silence, sir! What right have you to question me on this subject?" + +"Because, sir, he is more to blame than I." + +"I don't know that. I am not at all sure that your story is +correct." + +Mr. Crabb, meek as he was, was indignant at this flagrant +partiality. + +"Mr. Smith," he said, "I happen to know that Roscoe's story is +strictly correct, and that your nephew made an unprovoked attack +upon him." + +Hector looked grateful, and Jim Smith furious. + +"Mr. Crabb," said Socrates, angrily, "I did not ask your opinion. So +far as my nephew is concerned, I will deal with him privately. Boys, +you may begin your studies." + +All the boys understood that Jim was to be let off, and they thought +it a shame. But Mr. Crabb took care to make Hector's penance as +light as possible. + +And thus passed the first day at Smith Institute. + + + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + +THE USHER CONFIDES IN HECTOR. + + + + + +Mr. Crabb acted rashly in siding with Hector, and speaking against +Mr. Smith's nephew. Socrates showed his displeasure by a frigid +demeanor, and by seeking occasions for snubbing his assistant. On +the other hand, Hector felt grateful for his intercession, and an +intimacy sprang up between them. + +A few days afterward, on a half holiday, Mr. Crabb said: "Roscoe, I +am going out for a walk. Do you care to accompany me?" + +"I will do so with pleasure," said Hector, sincerely. + +"Mr. Crabb," he said, after they were fairly on their way, "I am +sorry to see that Mr. Smith has not forgiven you for taking my part +against Jim." + +"I would do it again, Roscoe," said the usher. "I could not sit +silent while so great an injustice was being done." + +"Do you think Jim was punished?" + +"I am sure he was not. He is a boy after Mr. Smith's own heart, that +is, he possesses the same mean and disagreeable qualities, perhaps +in a greater degree. Has he interfered with you since?" + +"No," answered Hector, smiling; "he probably found that I object to +being bullied." + +"You are fortunate in being strong enough to withstand his attacks." + +"Yes," said Hector, quietly; "I am not afraid of him." + +"Bullies are generally cowards," said the usher. + +"I wonder, Mr. Crabb, you are willing to stay at Smith Institute, as +usher to such a man as Mr. Smith." + +"Ah, Roscoe!" said Mr. Crabb, sighing; "it is not of my own free +will that I stay. Poverty is a hard task-master. I must teach for a +living." + +"But surely you could get a better position?" + +"Perhaps so; but how could I live while I was seeking for it. My +lad," he said, after a pause, "I have a great mind to confide in +you; I want one friend to whom I can talk unreservedly." + +"Mr. Crabb," said Hector, earnestly, "I shall feel flattered by your +confidence." + +"Thank you, Roscoe; or, rather, since we are going to be friends, +let me distinguish you from the other boys and call you Hector." + +"I wish you would, sir." + +"I need not tell you that I am poor," continued Mr. Crabb; "you can +read it in my shabby clothes. I sometimes see the boys looking at my +poor suit, as if they wondered why I dressed so badly. Smith has +more than once cast insulting looks at my rusty coat. It is not +penuriousness, as some of the boys may think--it is poverty that +prevents me from attiring myself more becomingly." + +"Mr. Crabb, I sympathize with you," said Hector. + +"Thank you, Hector. Of that I am sure." + +"Mr. Smith ought to pay you enough to clothe yourself neatly. He +makes you work hard enough." + +"He pays me twenty dollars a month," said the usher; "twenty dollars +and my board." + +"Is that all?" asked Hector, in amazement. "Why, the girl in the +kitchen earns nearly that" + +"To be sure," answered the usher, bitterly; "but in Mr. Smith's +estimation, I stand very little higher. He does not value education, +not possessing it himself. However, you may wonder why, even with +this sum, I cannot dress better. It is because I have another than +myself to support." + +"You are not married?" asked Hector, in surprise. + +"No; but I have an invalid sister, who is wholly dependent upon me. +To her I devote three-quarters of my salary, and this leaves me very +little for myself. My poor sister is quite unable to earn anything +for herself, so it is a matter of necessity." + +"Yes, I understand," said Hector, in a tone of sympathy. + +"You now see why I do not dare to leave this position, poor as it +is. For myself, I might take the risk, but I should not feel +justified in exposing my sister to the hazard of possible want." + +"You are right, Mr. Crabb. I am very sorry now that you spoke up for +me. It has prejudiced Mr. Smith against you." + +"No, no; I won't regret that. Indeed, he would hesitate to turn me +adrift, for he would not be sure of getting another teacher to take +my place for the same beggarly salary." + +"Something may turn up for you yet, Mr. Crabb," said Hector, +hopefully. + +"Perhaps so," answered the usher, but his tone was far from +sanguine. + +When they returned to the school, Hector carried out a plan which +had suggested itself to him in the interest of Mr. Crabb. He wrote +to a boy of his acquaintance, living in New York, who, he had heard, +was in want of a private tutor, and recommended Mr. Crabb, in strong +terms, for that position. He did this sincerely, for he had found +the usher to be a good teacher, and well versed in the studies +preparatory to college. He did not think it best to mention this to +Mr. Crabb, for the answer might be unfavorable, and then his hopes +would have been raised only to be dashed to the earth. + +Later in the day, Hector fell in with Bates, already referred to as +a special friend of Jim Smith. The intimacy, however, had been +diminished since the contest in which Hector gained the victory. +Bates was not quite so subservient to the fallen champion, and Jim +resented it. + +"I saw you walking out with old Crabb," said Bates. + +"He isn't particularly old," said Hector. + +"Oh, you know what I mean. Did you ever see such a scarecrow?" + +"Do you refer to his dress?" asked Hector. + +"Yes; he'll soon be in rags. I shouldn't wonder at all if that old +suit of his was worn by one of Noah's sons in the ark." + +"You don't suppose he wears it from choice, do you?" + +"I don't know. He's stingy, I suppose--afraid to spend a cent." + +"You are mistaken. He has a sister to support, and his salary is +very small." + +"I can believe that. Old Sock is mean with his teachers. How much +does he pay Crabb?" + +"It is very little, but I don't know that I ought to tell." + +"I say, though, Roscoe, I wouldn't go to walk with him again." + +"Why not?" + +"The boys will say that, you are trying to get into his good graces, +so he'll let you off easy in your lessons." + +"I don't want him to let me off easy; I generally intend to be +prepared." + +"I know, but that's what they will say." + +"Let them say what they please, and I will do what I please," said +Hector, independently. + +"Old Sock ain't any too fond of Crabb since he took your part the +other day. Jim says the old man means to bounce him before long." + +"I suppose that means discharge him." + +"It means giving him his walking papers. Jim will see that he does +it, too." + +Hector did not reply, but he felt more than ever glad that he had +written a letter which might possibly bring the poor usher more +profitable and, at the same time, agreeable employment. + +"Jim doesn't like you, either," added Bates. + +"I never supposed he did. I can do without his favor." + +"He will get you into a scrape if he can." + +"I have no doubt whatever of his benevolent intentions toward me. I +shall not let it interfere with my happiness." + +Just then a sharp cry was heard, as of a boy in pain. It came from +the school yard, which the two boys were approaching on their return +from a walk. + +"What's that?" asked Hector, quickly. + +"I expect it's the new boy." + +One had arrived the day before. + +"Is he hurt, I wonder?" asked Hector, quickening his steps. + +"Jim's got hold of him, probably," said Bates; "he said this morning +he was going to give the little chap a lesson to break him into +school ways." + +"He did, did he?" said Hector, compressing his lips. "I shall have +something to say to that," and he quickened his steps. + + + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + +TOSSED IN A BLANKET. + + + + + +The last new boy was a little fellow only eleven years old. His name +was Tommy Cooper, as he was called at home. It was his first absence +from the sheltering care of his mother, and he felt lonesome in the +great, dreary school building, where he was called "Cooper," and +"you little chap." He missed the atmosphere of home, and the +tenderness of his mother and sister. In fact, the poor boy was +suffering from that most distressing malady, homesickness. + +Had Mrs. Socrates Smith been a kind, motherly woman, she might have +done much to reconcile the boy to his new home; but she was a tall, +gaunt, bony woman, more masculine than feminine, not unlike Miss +Sally Brass, whom all readers of Dickens will remember. + +I am sorry to say that a homesick boy in a boarding school does not +meet with much sympathy. Even those boys who have once experienced +the same malady are half ashamed of it, and, if they remember it at +all, remember it as a mark of weakness. There was but one boy who +made friendly approaches to Tommy, and this was Hector Roscoe. + +Hector had seen the little fellow sitting by himself with a sad +face, and he had gone up to him, and asked him in a pleasant tone +some questions about himself and his home. + +"So you have never been away from home before, Tommy," he said. + +"No, sir," answered the boy, timidly. + +"Don't call me sir. I am only a boy like you. Call me Hector." + +"That is a strange name. I never heard it before." + +"No, it is not a common name. I suppose you don't like school very +much?" + +"I never shall be happy here," sighed Tommy. + +"You think so now, but you will get used to it." + +"I don't think I shall." + +"Oh, yes, you will. It will never seem like home, of course, but you +will get acquainted with some of the boys, and will join in their +games, and then time will pass more pleasantly." + +"I think the boys are very rough," said the little boy. + +"Yes, they are rough, but they don't mean unkindly. Some of them +were homesick when they came here, just like you." + +"Were you homesick?" asked Tommy, looking up, with interest. + +"I didn't like the school very well; but I was much older than you +when I came here, and, besides, I didn't leave behind me so pleasant +a home. I am not so rich as you, Tommy. I have no father nor +mother," and for the moment Hector, too, looked sad. + +The little fellow became more cheerful under the influence of +Hector's kind and sympathetic words. Our hero, however, was +catechised about his sudden intimacy with the new scholar. + +"I see you've got a new situation, Roscoe," said Bates, when Hector +was walking away. + +"What do you mean?" + +"You've secured the position of nurse to that little cry baby." + +"You mean Tommy Cooper?" + +"Yes, if that's his name." + +"I was cheering up the little fellow a bit. He's made rather a bad +exchange in leaving a happy home for Smith Institute." + +"That's so. This is a dreary hole, but there's no need of crying +about it." + +"You might if you were as young as Tommy, and had just come." + +"Shall you take him under your wing?" + +"Yes, if he needs it." + +We now come to the few minutes preceding the return of Hector from +his walk, as indicated in the last chapter. + +Tommy Cooper was sitting in the school yard, with a disconsolate +look, when Jim Smith, who was never happier than when he was +bullying other boys, espied him. + +"What's the matter with you, young one?" he said, roughly, "Is your +grandmother dead?" + +"No," answered Tommy, briefly. + +"Come here and play." + +"I would rather not." + +"I am not going to have you sulking round here. Do you hear me?" + +"Are you one of the teachers?" asked Tommy, innocently. + +"You'll find out who I am," answered Jim, roughly. "Here, Palmer, do +you want a little fun with this young one?" + +Palmer and Bates were Jim Smith's most devoted adherents. + +"What are you going to do, Jim?" questioned Palmer. + +"I'm going to stir him up a little," said Jim, with a malicious +smile. "Go and get a blanket." + +"All right!" said Palmer. + +"We'll toss him in a blanket. He won't look so sulky after we get +through with him." + +There were two or three other boys standing by, who heard these +words. + +"It's a shame!" said one, in a low voice. "See the poor little chap, +how sad he looks! I felt just as he does when I first came to +school." + +"Jim ought not to do it," said the second. "It's a mean thing to +do." + +"Tell him so." + +"No, thank you. He'd treat me the same way." + +The two speakers were among the smaller boys, neither being over +fourteen, and though they sympathized with Tommy, their sympathy was +not likely to do him any good. + +Out came Palmer with the blanket. + +"Are there any teachers about?" asked Jim. + +"No." + +"That's good. We shan't be interfered with. Here, young one, come +here." + +"What for?" asked Tommy, looking frightened. + +"Come here, and you'll find out." + +But Tommy had already guessed. He had read a story of English school +life, in which a boy had been tossed in a blanket, and he was not +slow in comprehending the situation. + +"Oh, don't toss me in a blanket!" said the poor boy, clasping his +hands. + +"Sorry to disturb you, but it's got to be done, young one," said +Jim. "Here, jump in. It'll do you good." + +"Oh, don't!" sobbed the poor boy. "It'll hurt me." + +"No, it won't! Don't be a cry baby. We'll make a man of you." + +But Tommy was not persuaded. He jumped up, and tried to make his +escape. But, of course, there was no chance for him. Jim Smith +overtook him in a couple of strides, and seizing him roughly by the +collar, dragged him to the blanket, which by this time Palmer and +one of the other boys, who had been impressed into the service +reluctantly, were holding. + +Jim Smith, taking up Tommy bodily, threw him into the blanket, and +then seizing one end, gave it a violent toss. Up went the boy into +the air, and tumbling back again into the blanket was raised again. + +"Raise him, boys!" shouted Jim. "Give him a hoist!" + +Then it was that Tommy screamed, and Hector heard his cry for help. + +He came rushing round the corner of the building, and comprehended, +at a glance, what was going on. + +Naturally his hot indignation was much stirred. + +"For shame, you brutes!" he cried. "Stop that!" + +If there was anyone whom Jim Smith did not want to see at this +moment, it was Hector Roscoe. He would much rather have seen one of +the ushers. He saw that he was in a scrape, but his pride would not +allow him to back out. + +"Keep on, boys!" he cried. "It's none of Roscoe's business. He'd +better clear out, or we'll toss him." + +As he spoke he gave another toss. + +"Save me, Hector!" cried Tommy, espying his friend's arrival with +joy. + +Hector was not the boy to let such an appeal go unheeded. He sprang +forward, dealt Jim Smith a powerful blow, that made him stagger, and +let go the blanket, and then helped Tommy to his feet. + +"Run into the house. Tommy!" he said. "There may be some rough work +here." + +He faced round just in time to fend off partially a blow from the +angry bully. + +"Take that for your impudence!" shouted Jim Smith. "I'll teach you +to meddle with, me." + +But Jim reckoned without his host. The blow was returned with +interest, and, in the heat of his indignation, Hector followed it up +with such a volley that the bully retreated in discomfiture, and was +glad to withdraw from the contest. + +"I'll pay you for this, you scoundrel!" he said, venomously. + +"Whenever you please, you big brute!" returned Hector, +contemptuously. "It is just like you to tease small boys. If you +annoy Tommy Cooper again, you'll hear from me." + +"I'd like to choke that fellow!" muttered Jim. "Either he or I will +have to leave this school." + + + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + +JIM SMITH'S REVENGE. + + + + + +It would be natural to suppose that Jim Smith, relying upon his +influence with his uncle, would have reported this last "outrage," +as he chose to consider it, to the principal, thus securing the +punishment of Hector. But he was crafty, and considered that no +punishment Hector was likely to receive would satisfy him. Corporal +punishment for taking the part of an ill-used boy, Hector was +probably too spirited to submit to, and, under these circumstances, +it would hardly have been inflicted. Besides, Jim was aware that the +offense for which Hector had attacked him was not likely, if made +known, to secure sympathy. Even his uncle would be against him, for +he was fond of money, and had no wish to lose the new pupil, whose +friends were well able to pay for him. + +No! He decided that what he wanted was to bring Hector into +disgrace. The method did not immediately occur to him, but after a +while he saw his way clear. + +His uncle's bedchamber was on the second floor, and Jim's directly +over it on the third story. Some of the other boys, including +Hector, had rooms also on the third floor. + +Jim was going upstairs one day when, through the door of his uncle's +chamber, which chanced to be open, he saw a wallet lying on the +bureau. On the impulse of the moment, he walked in on tiptoes, +secured the wallet, and slipped it hurriedly into his pocket. Then +he made all haste upstairs, and bolted himself into his own room. +Two other boys slept there, but both were downstairs in the +playground. + +Jim took the wallet from his pocket and eagerly scanned the +contents. There were eight five-dollar bills and ten dollars in +small bills, besides a few papers, which may be accurately described +as of no value to anyone but the owner. + +The boy's face assumed a covetous look. He, as well as his uncle, +was fond of money--a taste which, unfortunately, as he regarded it, +he was unable to gratify. His family was poor, and he was received +at half price by Socrates Smith on the score of relationship, but +his allowance of pocket money was less than that of many of the +small boys. He made up the deficiency, in part, by compelling them +to contribute to his pleasures. If any boy purchased candy, or any +other delicacy, Jim, if he learned the fact, required him to give +him a portion, just as the feudal lords exacted tribute from their +serfs and dependents. Still, this was not wholly satisfactory, and +Jim longed, instead, for a supply of money to spend as he chose. + +So the thought came to him, as he scanned the contents of the +wallet: "Why shouldn't I take out one or two of these bills before +disposing of it? No one will lay it to me." + +The temptation proved too strong for Jim's power of resistance. He +selected a five-dollar bill and five dollars in small bills, and +reluctantly replaced the rest of the money in the wallet. + +"So far, so good!" he thought. "That's a good idea." + +Then, unlocking the door, he passed along the entry till he came to +the room occupied by Hector. As he or one of the two boys who roomed +with him might be in the room, he looked first through the keyhole. + +"The coast is clear!" he said to himself, in a tone of satisfaction. + +Still, he opened the door cautiously, and stepped with catlike tread +into the room. Then he looked about the room. Hanging on nails were +several garments belonging to the inmates of the room. Jim selected +a pair of pants which he knew belonged to Hector, and hurrying +forward, thrust the wallet into one of the side pockets. Then, with +a look of satisfaction, he left the room, shutting the door +carefully behind him. + +"There," he said to himself, with exultation. "That'll fix him! +Perhaps he'll wish he hadn't put on quite so many airs." + +He was rather annoyed, as he walked along the corridor, back to his +own room, to encounter Wilkins. He had artfully chosen a time when +he thought all the boys would be out, and he heartily wished that +some untoward chance had not brought Wilkins in. + +"Where are you going, Jim?" asked Wilkins. + +"I went to Bates' room, thinking he might be in, but he wasn't." + +"Do you want him? I left him out on the playground." + +"Oh, it's no matter! It'll keep!" said Jim, indifferently. + +"I got out of that pretty well!" he reflected complacently. + +Perhaps Jim Smith would not have felt quite so complacent, if he had +known that at the time he entered Hector's room it was occupied, +though he could not see the occupant. It so chanced that Ben Platt, +one of Hector's roommates, was in the closet, concealed from the +view of anyone entering the room, yet so placed that he could see +through the partially open door what wras passing in the room. + +When he saw Jim Smith enter he was surprised, for he knew that that +young man was not on visiting terms with the boy who had discomfited +and humiliated him. + +"What on earth can Jim want?" he asked himself. + +He did not have long to wait for an answer though not a real one; +but actions, as men have often heard, speak louder than words. + +When he saw Jim steal up to Hector's pants, and producing a wallet, +hastily thrust it into one of the pockets, he could hardly believe +the testimony of his eyes. + +"Well!" he ejaculated, inwardly, "I would not have believed it if I +hadn't seen it. I knew Jim was a bully and a tyrant, but I didn't +think he was as contemptible as all that." + +The wallet he recognized at once, for he had more than once seen +Socrates take it out of his pocket. + +"It's old Sock's wallet!" he said to himself. "It's clear that Jim +has taken it, and means to have it found in Roscoe's possession. +That's as mean a trick as I ever heard of." + +Just then Wilkins entered the room. Wilkins and Ben Platt were +Hector's two roommates. + +"Hello, Wilkins! I'm glad you've come just as you have." + +"What for, Platt? Do you want to borrow some money?" + +"No; there is more money in this room now than there has been for a +long time." + +"What do you mean? The governor hasn't sent you a remittance, has +he?" + +"No." + +"Expound your meaning, then, most learned and mysterious chum." + +"I will. Within five minutes Jim Smith has been here and left a +wallet of money." + +"Jim been here? I met him in the corridor." + +"I warrant he didn't say he had been here." + +"No; he said he had been to Bates' room, but didn't find him there." + +"That's all gammon! Wilkins, what will you say when I tell you that +old Sock's wallet is in this very room!" + +"I won't believe it!" + +"Look here, then!" + +As he spoke, Ben went to Hector's pants and drew out the wallet. + +Wilkins started in surprise and dismay. + +"How did Roscoe come by that?" he asked; "surely he didn't take it?" + +"Of course he didn't. You might know Roscoe better. Didn't you hear +me say just now that Jim brought it here?" + +"And put it in Roscoe's pocket?" + +"Yes." + +"In your presence?" + +"Yes; only he didn't know that I was present," said Platt. + +"Where were you?" + +"In the closet. The door was partly open, and I saw everything." + +"What does it all mean?" + +"Can't you see? It's Jim's way of coming up with Roscoe. You know he +threatened that he'd fix him." + +"All I can say is, that it's a very mean way," said Wilkins in +disgust. + +He was not a model boy--far from it, indeed!--but he had a sentiment +of honor that made him dislike and denounce a conspiracy like this. + +"It's a dirty trick," he said, warmly. + +"I agree with you on that point." "What shall we do about it?" + +"Lay low, and wait till the whole thing comes out. When Sock +discovers his loss, Jim will be on hand to tell him where his wallet +is. Then we can up and tell all we know." + +"Good! There's a jolly row coming!" said Wilkins, smacking his lips. + + + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + +THE MISSING WALLET IS FOUND. + + + + + +Socrates Smith was, ordinarily, so careful of his money, that it was +a very remarkable inadvertence to leave it on the bureau. Nor was it +long before he ascertained his loss. He was sitting at his desk when +his wife looked in at the door, and called for a small sum for some +domestic expenditure. + +With an ill grace--for Socrates hated to part with his money--he put +his hand into the pocket where he usually kept his wallet. + +"Really, Mrs. Smith," he was saying, "it seems to me you are always +wanting money--why, bless my soul!" and such an expression of +consternation and dismay swept over his face, that his wife +hurriedly inquired: + +"What is the matter, Mr. Smith?" + +"Matter enough!" he gasped. "My wallet is gone!" + +"Gone!" echoed his wife, in alarm. "Where can you have left it?" + +Mr. Smith pressed his hand to his head in painful reflection. + +"How much money was there in it, Socrates?" asked his wife. + +"Between forty and fifty dollars!" groaned Mr. Smith. "If I don't +find it, Sophronia, I am a ruined man!" + +This was, of course, an exaggeration, but it showed the poignancy of +the loser's regret. + +"Can't you think where you left it?" + +Suddenly Mr. Smith's face lighted up. + +"I remember where I left it, now," he said; "I was up in the chamber +an hour since, and, while changing my coat, took out my wallet, and +laid it on the bureau. I'll go right up and look for it." + +"Do, Socrates." + +Mr. Smith bounded up the staircase with the agility of a man of half +his years, and hopefully opened the door of his chamber, which Jim +had carefully closed after him. His first glance was directed at the +bureau, but despair again settled down sadly upon his heart when he +saw that it was bare. There was no trace of the missing wallet. + +"It may have fallen on the carpet," said Socrates, hope reviving +faintly. + +There was not a square inch of the cheap Kidderminster carpet that +he did not scan earnestly, greedily, but, alas! the wallet, if it +had ever been there, had mysteriously taken to itself locomotive +powers, and wandered away into the realm of the unknown and the +inaccessible. + +Yet, searching in the chambers of his memory, Mr. Smith felt sure +that he had left the wallet on the bureau. He could recall the exact +moment when he laid it down, and he recollected that he had not +taken it again. + +"Some one has taken it!" he decided; and wrath arose in his heart, +He snapped his teeth together in stern anger, as he determined that +he would ferret out the miserable thief, and subject him to condign +punishment. + +Mrs. Smith, tired of waiting for the appearance of her husband, +ascended the stairs and entered his presence. + +"Well?" she said. + +"I haven't found it," answered Socrates, tragically. "Mrs. Smith, +the wallet has been stolen!" + +"Are you sure that you left it here?" asked his wife. + +"Sure!" he repeated, in a hollow tone. "I am as sure as that the sun +rose to-morrow--I mean yesterday." + +"Was the door open?" + +"No; but that signifies nothing. It wasn't locked, and anyone could +enter." + +"Is it possible that we have a thief in the institute?" said Mrs. +Smith, nervously. "Socrates, I shan't sleep nights. Think of the +spoons!" + +"They're only plated." + +"And my earrings." + +"You could live without earrings. Think, rather, of the wallet, with +nearly fifty dollars in bills." + +"Who do you think took it, Socrates?" + +"I have no idea; but I will find out. Yes, I will find out. Come +downstairs, Mrs. Smith; we will institute inquiries." + +When Mr. Smith had descended to the lower floor, and was about +entering the office, it chanced that his nephew was just entering +the house. + +"What's the matter, Uncle Socrates?" he asked; "you look troubled." + +"And a good reason why, James; I have met with a loss." + +"You don't say so!" exclaimed Jim, in innocent wonder; "what is it?" + +"A wallet, with a large amount of money in it!" + +"Perhaps there is a hole in your pocket," suggested Jim. + +"A hole--large enough for my big wallet to fall through! Don't be +such a fool!" + +"Excuse me, uncle," said Jim, meekly; "of course that is impossible. +When do you remember having it last?" + +Of course Socrates told the story, now familiar to us, and already +familiar to his nephew, though he did not suspect that. + +Jim struck his forehead, as if a sudden thought had occurred to him. + +"Could it be?" he said, slowly, as if to himself; "no, I can't +believe it." + +"Can't believe what?" demanded Socrates, impatiently; "if you have +any clew, out with it!" + +"I hardly like to tell, Uncle Socrates, for it implicates one of the +boys." + +"Which?" asked Mr. Smith, eagerly. + +"I will tell you, though I don't like to. Half an hour since, I was +coming upstairs, when I heard a door close, as I thought, and, +directly afterward, saw Hector Roscoe hurrying up the stairs to the +third floor. I was going up there myself, and followed him. Five +minutes later he came out of his room, looking nervous and excited. +I didn't think anything of it at the time, but I now think that he +entered your room, took the wallet, and then carried it up to his +own chamber and secreted it." + +"Hector Roscoe!" repeated Mr. Smith, in amazement. "I wouldn't have +supposed that he was a thief." + +"Nor I; and perhaps he isn't. It might be well, however, to search +his room." + +"I will!" answered Socrates, with eagerness, "Come up, James, and +you, Mrs. Smith, come up, too!" + +The trio went upstairs, and entered poor Hector's room. It was not +unoccupied, for Ben Platt and Wilkins were there. They anticipated a +visit, and awaited it with curious interest. They rose to their feet +when the distinguished visitors arrived. + +"Business of importance brings us here," said Socrates. "Platt and +Wilkins, you may leave the room." + +The boys exchanged glances, and obeyed. + +"Wilkins," said Ben, when they were in the corridor, "it is just as +I thought. Jim has set a trap for Roscoe." + +"He may get caught himself," said Wilkins. "I ain't oversqueamish, +but that is too confounded mean! Of course you'll tell all you +know?" + +"Yes; and I fancy it will rather surprise Mr. Jim. I wish they had +let us stay in there." + +Meanwhile, Jim skillfully directed the search. + +"He may have put it under the mattress," suggested Jim. + +Socrates darted to the bed, and lifted up the mattress, but no +wallet revealed itself to his searching eyes. + +"No; it is not here!" he said, in a tone of disappointment; "the boy +may have it about him. I will send for him." + +"Wait a moment, Uncle Socrates," said Jim; "there is a pair of pants +which I recognize as his." + +Mr. Smith immediately thrust his hand into one of the pockets and +drew out the wallet! + +"Here it is!" he exclaimed, joyfully. "Here it is!" + +"Then Roscoe is a thief! I wouldn't have thought it!" said Jim. + +"Nor I. I thought the boy was of too good family to stoop to such a +thing. But now I remember, Mr. Allan Roscoe told me he was only +adopted by his brother. He is, perhaps, the son of a criminal." + +"Very likely!" answered Jim, who was glad to believe anything +derogatory to Hector. + +"What are you going to do about it, uncle?" + +"I shall bring the matter before the school. I will disgrace the boy +publicly," answered Socrates Smith, sternly. "He deserves the +exposure." + +"Aha, Master Roscoe!" said Jim, gleefully, to himself; "I rather +think I shall get even with you, and that very soon." + + + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + +A DRAMATIC SCENE. + + + + + +It was generally after vespers that Mr. Smith communicated to the +school anything which he desired to call to their attention. This +was to be the occasion of bringing our hero into disgrace. + +The boys assembled, most of them quite ignorant that anything +exceptional was to occur. Hector himself, the person chiefly +interested, was entirely unconscious that he was to be made "a +shining mark" for the arrows of suspicion and obloquy. If he had +noticed the peculiar and triumphantly malicious looks with which Jim +Smith, the bully and tyrant, whom he had humiliated and deposed, +regarded him, he might have been led to infer that some misfortune +was in store for him. But these looks he did not chance to notice. + +There were two other boys, however, who did notice them. These were +Ben Platt and Wil-kins, who had very good reasons, as we know, for +doing so. + +"I believe old Sock is going to pitch into Roscoe at vespers," said +Ben, in a whisper, to his roommate. + +"So do I. There's a look about him like that of a tiger about to +pounce on his prey." + +"Or a cat with murderous designs on a mouse." + +"We must expose the whole thing." + +"Of course." + +"Won't Jim be mad?" + +"Let him! He won't dare to thrash us while Roscoe is round." + +There was, indeed, about Socrates Smith an air of mystery, +portentous and suggestive. He looked like one meditating a coup +d'etat, or, perhaps, it might better be said, a coup de main, as the +hand is with schoolmasters, generally, the instrument of attack. + +When the proper time arrived, Mr. Smith cleared his throat, as he +always did before beginning to speak. + +"Boys," he said, "I have an important, and I may say, a painful, +communication to make to you." + +All the boys looked at each other in curiosity, except the three who +were already in the secret. + +"You know, boys," continued Socrates, "how proud I am of this +institute, how zealous I am for its good reputation, how unwearied I +am in my efforts for your progress and welfare." + +Mr. Smith's unwearied efforts were largely in the line of making out +and receipting bills for tuition, and it may be said that this was +to him by far the most agreeable of the duties he undertook to +perform. + +"I have been proud of my pupils," continued the principal, "and it +has given me pleasure to reflect that you all reflected credit, more +or less, upon my teaching. I have, also, sought to form your +manners, to train you to fill the positions which Providence may +have in store for you. In a word, while from time to time you may +have indulged in little escapades, slightly-culpable, I have felt +that you were all gentlemen." + +"What in the world does he mean?" thought more than one puzzled boy. +"What is all this leading to?" + +Among those to whom this thought occurred, was Hector Roscoe, who +was very far from conjecturing that all this long preamble was to +introduce an attack upon him. + +"But," proceeded Socrates, after a pause, "I have this afternoon +been painfully undeceived. I have learned, with inexpressible pain, +that Smith Institute has received an ineffaceable stigma." + +"Old Sock is getting eloquent!" whispered Ben Platt. + +"I have learned," continued Socrates, with tragic intensity, "that I +have nourished a viper in my bosom! I have learned that we have a +thief among us!" + +This declaration was greeted with a buzz of astonishment. Each boy +looked at his next door neighbor as if to inquire, "Is it you?" + +Each one, except the three who were behind the scenes. Of these, Jim +Smith, with an air of supreme satisfaction, looked in a sidelong way +at Hector, unconscious the while that two pairs of eyes--those of +Wilkins and Ben Platt--were fixed upon him. + +"I thought you would be surprised," said the principal, "except, of +course, the miserable criminal. But I will not keep you in suspense. +To-day, by inadvertence, I left my wallet, containing a considerable +sum of money, on the bureau in my chamber. An hour later, +discovering my loss, I went upstairs, but the wallet was gone. It +had mysteriously disappeared. I was at a loss to understand this at +first, but I soon found a clew. I ascertained that a boy--a boy who +is presently one of the pupils of Smith Institute--had entered my +chamber, had appropriated the wallet, had carried it to his +dormitory, and there had slyly concealed it in the pocket of a pair +of pants. Doubtless, he thought his theft would not be discovered, +but it was, and I myself discovered the missing wallet in its place +of concealment." + +Here Mr. Smith paused, and it is needless to say that the schoolroom +was a scene of great excitement. His tone was so impressive, and his +statement so detailed, that no one could doubt that he had most +convincing evidence of the absolute accuracy of what he said. + +"Who was it?" every boy had it on his lips to inquire. + +"Three hours have elapsed since my discovery," continued Mr. Smith. +"During that time I have felt unnerved. I have, however, written and +posted an account of this terrible discovery to the friends of the +pupil who has so disgraced himself and the school." + +Ben Platt and Wilkins exchanged glances of indignation. They felt +that Mr. Smith had been guilty of a piece of outrageous injustice in +acting thus before he had apprised the supposed offender of the +charge against him, and heard his defense. Both boys decided that +they would not spare Jim Smith, but at all hazards expose the +contemptible plot which he had contrived against his schoolfellow. + +"I waited, however, till I was somewhat more calm before laying the +matter before you. I know you will all be anxious to know the name +of the boy who has brought disgrace upon the school to which you +belong, and I am prepared to reveal it to you. Hector Roscoe, stand +up!" + +If a flash of lightning had struck him where he sat, Hector could +not have been more astonished. For a moment he was struck dumb, and +did not move. + +"Stand up, Hector Roscoe!" repeated the principal. "No wonder you +sit there as if paralyzed. You did not expect that so soon your sin +would find you out." + +Then Hector recovered completely his self-possession. He sprang to +his feet, and not only that, but he strode forward, blazing with +passion, till he stood before Mr. Smith's desk and confronted him. + +"Mr. Smith!" he said, in a ringing tone, "do I understand you to +charge me with stealing a wallet of yours containing money?" + +"I do so charge you, and I have complete evidence of the truth of my +charge. What have you to say?" + +"What have I to say?" repeated Hector, looking around him proudly +and scornfully. "I have to say that it is an infamous lie!" + +"Hold, sir!" exclaimed Socrates, angrily. "Shameless boy, do you +intend to brazen it out? Did I not tell you that I had complete +proof of the truth of the charge?" + +"I don't care what fancied proof you have. I denounce the charge as +a lie." + +"That won't do, sir! I myself took the wallet from the pocket of +your pantaloons, hanging in the chamber. Mrs. Smith was with me and +witnessed my discovery, and there was another present, one of the +pupils of this institute, who also can testify to the fact. It is +useless for you to deny it!" + +"You found the wallet in the pocket of my pantaloons?" asked Hector, +slowly. + +"Yes. There can be no doubt about that." + +"Who put it there?" demanded Hector, quickly. + +Socrates Smith was staggered, for he had not expected this query +from the accused. + +"Who put it there?" he repeated. + +"Yes, sir," continued Hector, firmly. "If the matter is as you state +it, some one has been mean enough to put the wallet into my pocket +in order to implicate me in a theft." + +"Of course you put it there yourself, Roscoe. Your defense is very +lame." + +Hector turned round to his fellow-scholars. + +"Boys," he said, "you have heard the charge that has been made +against me. You know me pretty well by this time. Is there any one +of you that believes it to be true?" + +"No! No!" shouted the boys, with one exception. Jim Smith was heard +to say distinctly, "I believe it!" + +"Silence in the school!" shouted Socrates. "This is altogether +irregular, and I won't have it." + +Hector turned to the principal, and said, calmly: + +"You see, Mr. Smith, that, in spite of your proof, these boys will +not believe that your charge is well founded." + +"That is neither here nor there, Roscoe. Will anyone step up and +prove your innocence?" + +There was another sensation. In the second row back a boy was seen +to rise. + +"Mr. Smith," said Ben Platt, "I can prove Roscoe's innocence!" + + + + + + +CHAPTER XX. + +HECTOR GAINS A VICTORY. + + + + + +There were two persons on whom Ben Platt's declaration made a +profound impression. These were Jim Smith and his uncle, the learned +Socrates. The latter was surprised, for he was fully persuaded that +the charge he had made was a true one, and Hector was a thief. As +for Jim, his surprise was of a very disagreeable nature. Knowing as +he did that, he himself had taken the money, he was alarmed lest his +offense was to be made known, and that the pit which he had digged +for another should prove to be provided for himself. + +Socrates was the first to speak after taking time to recover himself +from his surprise. + +"This is a very extraordinary statement, Platt," he said. "You say +you can prove Roscoe's innocence?" + +"Yes, sir," answered Platt, firmly. + +"I wish no trifling here, sir," said the principal, sharply. "I +myself found the wallet in Roscoe's pocket." + +"Yes, sir," answered Ben Platt, "I know it was there." + +"You knew it was there!" repeated Socrates. "How did you know it was +there?" + +"Because I saw it put in." + +Here Jim Smith's face turned from red to pale, and he moved about +uneasily in his seat. "Could Ben Platt have been hidden somewhere in +the room?" he asked himself, "If so, what was he to do?" There was +but one answer to this question. He must brazen it out, and boldly +contradict the witness. But he would bide his time. He would wait to +hear what Ben had to say. + +"Did you put it in yourself?" asked Socrates, savagely. + +"No, Mr. Smith, I didn't put it in," answered Ben, indignantly. + +"None of your impudence, sir!" said the schoolmaster, irritated. + +"I merely answered your question and defended myself," answered Ben. + +There was a little murmur among the pupils, showing that their +sympathy was with the boy who had been so causelessly accused by the +principal. + +"Silence!" exclaimed Socrates, annoyed. "Now," he continued, turning +to Ben, "since you know who put the wallet into Roscoe's pocket--a +very remarkable statement, by the way--will you deign to inform me +who did it?" + +"James Smith did it!" said Ben, looking over to the principal's +nephew, who was half expecting such an attack. + +"It's a base lie!" cried Jim, but his face was blanched, his manner +was nervous and confused, and he looked guilty, if he were not so. + +"My nephew?" asked Socrates, flurried. + +"Yes, sir." + +"It isn't so, Uncle Socrates," said Jim, excited. "I'll lick you, +Ben Platt, when we get out of school." + +"You forget yourself, James," said Socrates, with a mildness he +would not have employed with any other pupil. + +"I beg your pardon, Uncle Socrates," said Jim, with contrition, "but +I can't be silent when I am accused of things I don't do." + +"To be sure, you have some excuse, but you should remember the +respect you owe to me. Then you did not do it?" + +"Certainly not, sir." + +"So it appears, Platt, that you have brought a false charge against +your fellow-pupil," said Mr. Smith, severely. "I can conceive of +nothing meaner." + +"Mr. Smith," said Hector, "what right have you to say that the +charge is false? Is it the denial of your nephew? If he took the +wallet he would, of course, deny it." + +"So would you!" retorted Socrates. + +"No one saw me conceal it," said Hector, significantly. + +Then Wilkins rose. + +"Mr. Smith," he said, "I have some evidence to offer." + +"Out with it, sir," said the principal, angrily, for he was fighting +against an iaward conviction that his nephew was really the guilty +party. + +"I was walking along the corridor about the time Platt speaks of +Smith's visit to Roscoe's room, and I met your nephew walking in the +opposite direction. When I entered the room, Platt told me that, +half-concealed by the closet door, he had seen Jim Smith enter and +thrust the wallet into Roscoe's pocket. Soon after, you and Mrs. +Smith came into the room, guided by your nephew, who let you know +just where the wallet was hidden. He had very good reasons for +knowing," added Wilkins. + +If a look would have annihilated Wilkins, the look directed towards +him by Jim Smith would have had that effect. + +"It's a conspiracy against me, Uncle Socrates," said Jim, intent +upon brazening it out. "They're all in league together." + +"The testimony of Wilkins doesn't amount to much!" said Mr. Smith. +"He may have seen James in the corridor, but that is by no means a +part of his complicity in this affair." + +"Just so!" said Jim, eagerly. + +"Ben Platt's evidence ought to count for something," said Hector. +"He saw your nephew putting the wallet into the pocket of my pants." + +Socrates was clearly perplexed. In spite of his partiality for his +nephew, the case against him certainly looked very strong. + +Hector, however, determined to make his defense even stronger. + +"I would like to ask Platt," he said, "at what time this took +place?" + +"At three o'clock." + +"How do you know it was three?" asked the principal, sharply. + +"Because I heard the clock on the village church strike three." + +"I would like to ask another boy--Frank Lewis--if he heard the clock +strike three?" + +Lewis answered in the affirmative. + +"Where were you at the time?" + +"In the playground." + +"What were you doing?" + +"Playing ball." + +"Was I in the game?" + +"Yes." + +"How long had the game been going on?" + +"Half an hour." + +"How long had the game been going on, do you know?" + +"From half to three-quarters of an hour." + +"Can you remember whether I was with you all the time?" + +"You were." + +"Now, Platt, will you tell me how long after the wallet was put into +my pocket before Mr. Smith appeared in search of it?" + +"Not over half an hour." + +"I submit, then," said Hector, in a matter-of-fact manner, "that I +was absent in the playground during the entire time when it was +found in my room. I believe this is what lawyers call an alibi that +I have, fortunately, been able to prove." + +"You are a very smart lawyer!" sneered the principal. + +The boys were by this time so incensed at Mr. Smith's evident effort +to clear his nephew at the expense of Roscoe, that there was a very +audible hiss, in which at least half a dozen joined. + +"Is this rebellion?" asked Socrates, furiously. + +"No, sir," said Ben Platt, firmly. "We want justice done; that is +all." + +"You shall have justice--all of you!" exclaimed Socrates, carried +beyond the limits of prudence. + +"I am glad to hear that, sir," said Hector. "If you do not at once +exonerate me from this charge, which you know to be false, and write +to my guardian retracting it, I will bring the matter before the +nearest magistrate." + +This was more than Socrates had bargained for. He saw that he had +gone too far, and was likely to wreck his prospects and those of the +school. + +"I will look into the matter," he said, hurriedly, "and report to +the school hereafter. You may now apply yourselves to your studies." + + + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. + +THE USHER IS DISCHARGED. + + + + + +Among the boys of Smith Institute there was but one opinion on the +subject of the principal's wallet. All acquitted Roscoe of having +any part in the theft, and they were equally unanimous in the belief +that Jim Smith had contrived a mean plot against the boy whom he +could not conquer by fair means. There was a little informal +consultation as to how Jim should be treated. It was finally decided +to "send him to Coventry." + +As this phrase, which is well understood in English schools, may not +be so clear to my readers, I will explain that Jim was to be refused +notice by his schoolfellows, unless he should become aggressive, +when he was to be noticed in a manner far from agreeable. + +Jim could not help observing the cold looks of the boys, who but +lately were glad enough to receive notice from him, and he became +very angry. As to being ashamed of the exposure, he was not +sensitive, nor did he often have any feeling of that kind. Naturally +vindictive, he felt especially angry with the two boys, Ben Platt +and Wilkins, whose testimony had proved so uncomfortable for him. + +"I'll thrash those boys if I never thrash another," he said to +himself. "So they have turned against me, have they? They're only +fit to black my boots anyway. I'll give 'em a lesson." + +Platt and Wilkins were expecting an attack. They knew that Jim would +seize the opportunity of attacking them singly, and in the absence +of Hector, of whom he was afraid, and with good reason. They +concerted measures, accordingly, for defeating the common enemy. + +Jim was stalking about the next day, looking sullen and feeling +ugly. He could not help observing that whenever he approached a +group of boys they immediately scattered and walked away in various +directions. This naturally chafed him, for, having no intellectual +resources, he found solitude oppressive. Besides, he had been +accustomed to the role of boss, and where is a boss without +followers? + +Tired of the schoolroom precincts, Jim went to walk. In a rustic +lane, much to his delight, he saw approaching him one of the boys +who had so seriously offended him. + +It was Ben Platt. + +Ben was sauntering along in idle mood when he came face to face with +the dethroned boss. + +"So it's you, Platt, is it?" said Jim, grimly. + +"I believe it is," answered Ben, coolly. + +"I've got a word or two to say to you," said Jim, significantly. + +"Say them quick," said Ben, "for I'm in a hurry." + +"I'm not," said Jim, in his old tone, "and it makes no difference +whether you are or not." + +"Indeed! you are as polite as usual," returned Ben. + +"Look here, you young whelp!" Jim broke forth, unable any longer to +restrain his wrath, "what, did you mean by lying about me last +evening?" + +"I didn't lie about you," said Ben, boldly. + +"Yes, you did. What made you say you saw me put that wallet into +Roscoe's pocket?" + +"I can't think of any reason, unless because it was true," said Ben. + +"Even if it were, how dared you turn against me? First you play the +spy, and then informer. Paugh!" + +"I see you admit it," said Ben. "Well, if you want an answer I will +give you one. You laid a plot for Hector Roscoe--one of the meanest, +dirtiest plots I ever heard of, and I wasn't going to see you lie +him into a scrape while I could prevent it." + +"That's enough, Platt!" exclaimed Jim, furiously. "Now, do you know +what I am going to do?" + +"I don't feel particularly interested in the matter." + +"You will be, then. I am going to thrash you." + +"You wouldn't if Hector Roscoe were here," said Ben, not appearing +to be much frightened. + +"Well, he isn't here, though if he were it wouldn't make any +difference. I'll whip you so you can't stand." + +Ben's reply was to call "Wilkins!" + +From a clump of bushes, where he had lurked, unobserved hitherto, +sprang Wilkins, and joined his friend. + +"There are two of us, Smith!" said Ben Platt. + +"I can thrash you both," answered Jim, whose blood was up. + +Before the advent of Hector no two boys would have ventured to +engage Jim in combat, but his defeat by a boy considerably smaller +had lost him his prestige, and the boys had become more independent. +He still fancied himself a match for both, however, and the conflict +began. But both of his antagonists were in earnest, and Jim had a +hard time. + +Now, it so happened that Mr. Crabb, the usher, was taking a solitary +walk, and had approached the scene of conflict unobserved by any of +the participants. He arrived at an opportune time. Jim had managed +to draw Wilkins away, and by a quick movement threw him. He was +about to deal his prostrate foe a savage kick, which might have hurt +him seriously, when the usher, quiet and peaceful as he was by +nature, could restrain himself no longer. He rushed up, seized him +by the collar, dragged him back and shook him with a strength he did +not suppose he possessed, saying: + +"Leave that boy alone, you brute!" + +Jim turned quickly, and was very much surprised when he saw the meek +usher, whom he had always despised, because he looked upon him as a +Miss Nancy. + +"So it's you, is it?" he said, with a wicked glance. + +"Yes, it is I," answered the usher, manfully; "come up just in time +to stop your brutality." + +"Is it any of your business?" demanded Jim, looking as if he would +like to thrash the usher. + +"I have made it my business. Platt and Wilkins, I advise you to join +me, and leave this fellow, who has so disgraced himself as to be +beneath your notice." + +"We will accompany you with pleasure, sir," said the boys. + +They regarded the usher with new respect for this display of +courage, for which they had not given him credit. + +"I'll fix you, Crabb," said Jim Smith, insolently, "and don't you +forget it!" + +Mr. Crabb did not deign to answer him. + +Jim Smith was as good as his word. + +An hour later Mr. Crabb was summoned to the presence of the +principal. + +Socrates received him with marked coldness. + +"Mr. Crabb," he said, "I cannot conceal the amazement I feel at a +complaint which has just been made by my nephew." + +"Well, sir?" + +Mr. Crabb had nerved himself for the worst, and did not cower or +show signs of fear, as Socrates expected he would. + +"James tells me that you attacked him savagely this afternoon when +he was having a little sport with two of his schoolfellows." + +"Is that what he says, Mr. Smith?" + +"Yes, sir, and I require an explanation." + +"You shall have it. The sport in which your nephew was engaged was +attempting to thrash Wilkins. He had him down, and was about to deal +him a savage kick when I fortunately came up." + +"And joined in the fight," sneered Socrates. + +"Yes, if you choose to put it so. Would you have had me stand by, +and see Wilkins brutally used?" + +"Of course, you color the affair to suit yourself," said Socrates, +coldly. "The fact is that you, an usher, have lowered yourself by +taking part in a playful schoolboy contest." + +"Playful!" repeated Mr. Crabb. + +"Yes, and I shall show how I regard it by giving you notice that I +no longer require your services in my school. I shall pay you up at +the end of the week and then discharge you." + +"Mr. Smith," said the usher, "permit me to say that anything more +disgraceful than your own conduct within the last twenty-four hours +I have never witnessed. You have joined your nephew in a plot to +disgrace an innocent boy, declining to do justice, and now you have +capped the climax by censuring me for stopping an act of brutality, +merely because your nephew was implicated in it!" + +"This to me?" exclaimed Socrates Smith, hardly crediting the +testimony of his ears. + +"Yes, sir, and more! I predict that the stupid folly which has +characterized your course will, within six months, drive from you +every scholar you have in your school!" + +"Mr. Crabb," gasped Socrates, never more surprised in his life than +he was at the sudden spirit exhibited by the usher, "I will not be +so insulted. Leave me, and to-morrow morning leave my service." + +"I will, sir. I have no desire to remain here longer." + +But when Mr. Crabb had walked away his spirit sank withia him. How +was he to obtain another situation? He must consult immediately with +Hector Roscoe, in whose judgment, boy as he was, he reposed great +confidence. + + + + + + +CHAPTER XXII. + +THE WELCOME LETTER. + + + + + +"Hector," said Mr. Crabb, nervously, "I am going to leave the +institute at the end of the week." + +"Have you secured another situation, Mr. Crabb?" asked Hector, +hopefully. + +"No," answered the usher, shaking his head. "I have been +discharged." + +"For what reason?" + +"For interfering with Mr. Smith's nephew when he was brutally +abusing Wilkins." + +"Did Mr. Smith fully understand the circumstances?" + +"Yes; but he stands by his nephew right or wrong. He blamed me for +checking his nephew's brutality." + +"This is shameful!" said Hector, warmly. "May I ask, Mr. Crabb, if +you have formed any plans?" + +"No, except to seek a new position!" answered Crabb. "I fear," he +added, despondently, "that it may be some time before I am so +fortunate. Roscoe, I don't know what to do when I leave the school. +I shall barely have five dollars, and you know I have not only +myself, but another to support." + +"Keep up your courage, Mr. Crabb! It is nearly time for me to hear +from the friend in New York to whom I wrote is your behalf. If you +can secure the position of his private tutor--" + +"If I can, I will hail it as providential. It will relieve me at +once from all anxiety." + +"I don't think I shall long remain here myself, Mr. Crabb," said +Hector. "I came here with the full intention of making the most of +the facilities the institute affords for education, but I find the +principal incompetent, and disposed to connive at injustice and +brutality. The only good I have got here has been derived from your +instructions." + +"Thank you, Roscoe. Such a tribute is, indeed, welcome," said the +usher, warmly. + +"It is quite sincere, Mr. Crabb, and I hope my good wishes may bring +you the advantage which I have in view." + +"Thank you, Roscoe. I don't blame you for being disgusted with the +management of the school. You have yourself suffered injustice." + +"Yes; in writing home, and charging me with theft, before he had +investigated the circumstances, Mr. Smith did me a great injustice. +I doubt whether he has since written to correct the false charge, as +I required him to do. If not, I shall owe it to myself to leave the +school." + +"You will be justified in doing so." The next day brought Hector two +letters. One was from Allan Roscoe, and read as follows: + +"HECTOR: I have received from your worthy teacher a letter which has +filled me with grief and displeasure. I knew you had great faults, +but I did not dream that you would stoop so low as to purloin money, +as it seems you have done. Mr. Smith writes me that there is no room +to doubt your guilt. He himself discovered in the pocket of your +pantaloons a wallet containing a large sum of money, which he had +missed only a short time before. He learned that you had entered his +chamber, and taken the money, being tempted by your own dishonest +and depraved heart. + +"I cannot express the shame I feel at this revelation of baseness. I +am truly glad that you are not connected with me by blood. Yet I +cannot forget that my poor brother treated you as a son; and took +pains to train you up in right ideas. It would give him deep pain +could he know how the boy whom he so heaped with benefits has turned +out! I may say that Guy is as much shocked as I am, but he, it +seems, had a better knowledge of you than I; for he tells me he is +not surprised to hear it. I confess I am, for I thought better of +you. + +"Under the circumstances I shall not feel justified in doing for you +as much as I intended. I proposed to keep you at school for two +years more, but I have now to announce that this is your last term, +and I advise you to make the most of it. I will try, when the term +closes, to find some situation for you, where your employer's money +will not pass through your hands. ALLAN ROSCOE." + +Hector read the letter with conflicting feelings, the most prominent +being indignation and contempt for the man who so easily allowed +himself to think evil of him. + +The other letter he found more satisfactory. + +It was from his young friend in New York, Walter Boss. As it is +short, I subjoin it: + +"DEAR HECTOR: I am ever so glad to hear from you, but I should like +much better to see you. I read to papa what you said of Mr. Crabb, +and he says it is very apropos, as he had made up his mind to get me +a tutor. I am rather backward, you see, not having your taste for +study, and papa thinks I need special attention. He says that your +recommendation is sufficient, and he will engage Mr. Crabb without +any further inquiry; and he says he can come at once. He will give +him sixty dollars a month and board, and he will have considerable +time for himself, if he wants to study law or any other profession. +I don't know but a cousin may join me in my studies, in which case +he will pay a hundred dollars per month, if that will be +sastisfactory. + +"Why can't you come and make me a visit? We'll have jolly fun. Come +and stay a month, old chap. There is no one I should like +better. Your friend, WALTER Boss." + +Hector read this letter with genuine delight. It offered a way of +escape, both for the unfortunate usher aad himself. Nothing could be +more "apropos" to quote Walter's expression. + +Our hero lost no time in seeking out Mr. Crabb. + +"You seem in good spirits, Roscoe," said the usher, his careworn +face contrasting with the beaming countenance of his pupil. + +"Yes, Mr. Crabb, I have reason to be, and so have you." + +"Have you heard from your friend?" asked the usher, hopefully. + +"Yes, and it's all right." + +Mr. Crabb looked ten years younger. + +"Is it really true?" he asked. + +"It is true that you are engaged as private tutor to my friend, +Walter. You'll find him a splendid fellow, but I don't know if the +pay is sufficient," continued Hector, gravely. + +"I am willing to take less pay than I get here," said the usher, +"for the sake of getting away." + +"How much do you receive here?" + +"Twenty dollar a month and board. I might, perhaps, get along on a +little less," he added doubtfully. + +"You won't have to, Mr. Crabb. You are offered sixty dollars a month +and a home." + +"You are not in earnest, Roscoe?" asked the usher, who could not +believe in his good fortune. + +"I will read you the letter, Mr. Crabb." + +When it was read the usher looked radiant. "Roscoe," he said, "you +come to me like an angel from heaven. Just now I was sad and +depressed; now it seems to me that the whole future is radiant. +Sixty dollars a month! Why, it will make me a rich man." + +"Mr. Crabb," said Hector, with a lurking spirit of fun, "can you +really make up your mind to leave Smith Institute, and its kind and +benevolent principal?" + +"I don't think any prisoner ever welcomed his release with deeper +thankfulness," said the usher. "To be in the employ of a man whom +you despise, yet to feel yourself a helpless and hopeless dependent +on him is, I assure you, Roscoe, a position by no means to be +envied. For two years that has been my lot." + +"But it will soon be over." + +"Yes, thanks to you. Why can't you accompany me, Hector? I ought +not, perhaps, to draw you away, but--" + +"But listen to the letter I have received from my kind and +considerate guardian, as he styles himself," said Hector. + +He read Allan Roscoe's letter to the usher. + +"He seems in a great hurry to condemn you," said Mr. Crabb. + +"Yes, and to get me off his hands," said Hector, proudly. "Well, he +shall be gratified in the last. I shall accept Walter's invitation, +and we will go up to New York together." + +"That will, indeed, please me. Of course, you will undeceive your +guardian." + +"Yes. I will get Wilkins and Platt to prepare a statement of the +facts in the case, and accompany it by a note releasing Mr. Roscoe +from any further care or expense for me." + +"But, Hector, can you afford to do this?" + +"I cannot afford to do otherwise, Mr. Crabb. I shall find friends, +and I am willing to work for my living, if need be," + +At this point one of the boys came to Mr. Crabb with a message from +Socrates, desiring the usher to wait upon him at once. + + + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. + +ANOTHER CHANCE FOR THE USHER. + + + + + +Mr. Smith had been thinking it over. He had discharged Mr. Crabb in +the anger of the moment, but after his anger had abated, he +considered that it was not for his interest to part with him. Mr. +Crabb was a competent teacher, and it would be well-nigh impossible +to obtain another so cheap. Twenty dollars a month for a teacher +qualified to instruct in Latin and Greek was certainly a beggarly +sum, but Mr. Crabb's dire necessity had compelled him to accept it. +Where could he look for another teacher as cheap? Socrates Smith +appreciated the difficulty, and decided to take Mr. Crabb back, on +condition that he would make an apology to Jim. + +To do Mr. Crabb justice, it may be said that he would not have done +this even if he saw no chance of another situation. But this Mr. +Smith did not know. He did observe, however, that the usher entered +his presence calm, erect and appearing by no means depressed, as he +had expected. + +"You sent for me, sir?" said the usher interrogatively. + +"Yes, Mr. Crabb. You will remember that I had occasion to rebuke +you, when we last conferred together, for overstepping the limits of +your authority?" + +"I remember, Mr. Smith, that you showed anger, and found fault with +me." + +"Exactly so." + +"Why doesn't he ask to be taken back?" thought Socrates. + +"I have thought the matter over since," continued the principal, +"and have concluded we might be able to arrange matters." + +The usher was surprised. He had not expected that Mr. Smith would +make overtures of reconciliation. He decided not to mention at +present his brighter prospects in New York, but to wait and see what +further his employer had to say. + +Mr. Crabb bowed, but did not make any reply. + +"I take it for granted, Mr. Crabb, that your means are limited," +proceeded Socrates. + +"You are right there, sir. If I had not been poor I should not have +accepted the position of teacher in Smith Institute for the pitiful +salary of twenty dollars a month." + +"Twenty dollars a month and your board, Mr. Crabb," said Socrates, +with dignity, "I consider a very fair remuneration." + +"I do not, Mr. Smith," said the usher, in a decided tone. + +"I apprehend you will find it considerably better than to be out of +employment," said Socrates, rather angry. + +"You are right there, sir." + +"I am glad you show signs of returning reason. Well, Mr. Crabb, I +have thought the matter over, and I have a proposal to make to you." + +"Very well, sir!" + +"I do not wish to distress you by taking away your means of +livelihood." + +"You are very considerate, sir." + +There was something in Mr. Crabb's tone that Socrates did not +understand. It really seemed that he did not care whether he was +taken back or not. But, of course, this could not be. It was +absolutely necessary for him, poor as he was, that he should be +reinstated. So Mr. Smith proceeded. + +"To cut the matter short, I am willing to take you back on two +conditions." + +"May I ask you to name them?" + +"The first is, that you shall apologize to my nephew for your +unjustifiable attack upon him day before yesterday." + +"What is the other, Mr. Smith?" + +"The other is, that hereafter you will not exceed the limits of your +authority." + +"And you wish my answer?" asked the usher, raising his eyes, and +looking fixedly at his employer. + +"If you please, Mr. Crabb." + +"Then, sir, you shall have it. Your proposal that I should apologize +to that overgrown bully for restraining him in his savage treatment +of a fellow-pupil is both ridiculous and insulting." + +"You forget yourself, Mr. Crabb," said Socrates, gazing at the +hitherto humble usher in stupefaction. + +"As to promising not to do it again, you will understand that I +shall make no such engagement." + +"Then, Mr. Crabb," said Socrates, angrily, "I shall adhere to what I +said the other day. At the end of this week you must leave me." + +"Of course, sir, that is understood!" + +"You haven't another engagement, I take it," said Mr. Smith, very +much puzzled by the usher's extraordinary independence. + +"Yes, sir, I have." + +"Indeed!" said Socrates, amazed. "Where do you go?" Then was Mr. +Crabb's time for triumph. + +"I have received this morning an offer from the city of New York," +he said. + +"From New York! Is it in a school?" + +"No, sir; I am to be private tutor in a family." + +"Indeed! Do you receive as good pay as here?" + +"As good!" echoed the usher. "I am offered sixty dollars a month and +board, with the possibility of a larger sum, in the event of extra +service being demanded." + +Socrates Smith had never been more surprised. + +This Mr. Crabb, whom he had considered to be under his thumb, as +being wholly dependent upon him, was to receive a salary which he +considered princely. + +"How did you get this office?" he asked. + +"Through my friend, Hector Roscoe," answered the usher. + +"Probably he is deceiving you. It is ridiculous to offer you such a +sum." + +"I am quite aware that you would never think of offering it, but, +Mr. Smith, there are other employers more generous." + +Mr. Crabb left the office with the satisfied feeling that he had the +best of the encounter.. He would have felt gratified could he have +known the increased respect with which he was regarded by the +principal as a teacher who could command so lucrative an engagement +in the great city of New York. + +Before closing this chapter I must take notice of one circumstance +which troubled Mr. Smith, and in the end worked him additional loss. + +I have already said that Jim Smith, in appropriating his uncle's +wallet, abstracted therefrom a five-dollar bill before concealing it +in Hector's pocket. + +This loss Mr. Smith speedily discovered, and he questioned Jim about +it. + +"I suppose Roscoe took it," said Jim, glibly. + +"But he says he did not take the wallet," said Socrates, who was +assured in his own mind that his nephew was the one who found it on +the bureau. Without stigmatizing him as a thief, he concluded that +Jim meant to get Hector into trouble. + +"Wasn't it found in his pants' pocket?" queried Jim. + +"Yes, but why should he take five dollars out of the wallet?" + +"I don't know." + +"It doesn't look likely that he would!" said Socrates, eying Jim +keenly. + +"Then it may have been Ben Platt or Wilkins," said Jim, with a +bright idea. + +"So it might," said the principal, with a feeling of relief. + +"They said they were in the room--at any rate, Platt said so--at the +time it was concealed, only he made a mistake and took Roscoe for +me." + +"There is something in that, James. It may be as you suggest." + +"They are both sneaks," said Jim, who designated all his enemies by +that name. "They'd just as lieve do it as not. I never liked them." + +"I must look into this matter. It's clear that some one has got this +money, and whoever has it has got possession of it dishonestly." + +"To be sure," answered Jim, with unblushing assurance. "If I were +you I would find out who did it, that is, if you don't think Roscoe +did it." + +"No, I don't think Roscoe did it, now. You may tell Platt and +Wilkins that I wish to see them." + +Jim could not have been assigned a more pleasing duty. He hated the +two boys quite as much as he did Hector, and he was glad to feel +that they were likely to get into hot water. + +He looked about for some time before he found the two boys. At +length he espied them returning from a walk. + +"Here, you two!" he called out, in a voice ef authority. "You're +wanted!" + +"Who wants us?" asked Ben Platt. + +"My uncle wants you," answered Jim, with malicious satisfaction. +"You'd better go and see him right off, too. You won't find it a +trifling matter, either." + +"Probably Jim has been hatchng some mischief," said Wilkins. "He +owes us a grudge. We'll go and see what it is." + + + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. + +THE YOUNG DETECTIVES. + + + + + +When Mr. Smith had made the two boys' understand that he suspected +them of purloining the missing five-dollar bill, they were naturally +very indignant. + +"Mr. Smith," said Ben Platt, in a spirited tone, "no one ever +suspected me of dishonesty before." + +"Nor me," said Wilkins. + +"That's neither here nor there," said the principal, dogmatically. +"It stands to reason that some one took the money. Money doesn't +generally walk off itself," he added, with a sneer. + +"I don't dispute that," said Ben; "but that does not prove that +Wilkins or I had anything to do with it." + +"You were in the room with the money for half an hour, according to +your own confession," said Socrates. + +"Yes, I was." + +"And part of that time Wilkins was also present." + +"Yes, sir," assented Wilkins. + +"I am no lawyer," said the principal, triumphantly, "but that seems +to me a pretty good case of circumstantial evidence." + +"You seem to forget, sir, that there is another person who had an +excellent chance to take the money," said Ben Platt. + +"You mean Hector Roscoe? That is true. It lies between you three." + +"No, Mr. Smith, I do not mean Hector Roscoe. I have as much +confidence in Roscoe as myself." + +"So have I," sneered Socrates. + +"And I know he would not take any money that did not belong to him. +I mean a very different person--your nephew, James Smith." + +Socrates Smith frowned with anger. "There seems to be a conspiracy +against my unfortunate nephew," he said. "I don't believe a word of +your mean insinuations, and I am not deceived by your attempt to +throw your own criminality upon him. It will not injure him in my +eyes. Moreover, I shall be able to trace back the theft to the +wrongdoer. The missing bill was marked with a cross upon the back, +and should either of you attempt to pass it, your guilt will be made +manifest. I advise you to restore it to me while there is yet time." + +"The bill was marked?" asked Wilkins, eagerly. + +"Yes." + +"Then, sir, you may have a chance to find out who took it." + +"The discovery might not please you," said Socrates, with a sneer. + +"It would give me the greatest pleasure, Mr. Smith. If I can in any +way help you discover the missing note, I will do so." + +"You can go," said Socrates, abruptly. + +When the two boys had left the presence of the principal, Ben Platt, +said, "What are you going to do about it, Wilkins?" + +"First of all," answered Wilkins, promptly, "I am going to find out +if Jim took that money." + +"How can you find out?" + +"Did you notice that he had come out with a new ring?" + +"No, I didn't observe it." + +"He has bought it since that money was lost!" said Wilkins, +significantly. + +"Do you think he purchased it with the missing bill?" + +"I wouldn't wonder at all. At any rate, I am going to find out. He +must have bought it from Washburn, the jeweler. Will you go with me, +and ask?" + +"Yes," answered Ben, eagerly. "Let us go alone. If we can only prove +the theft upon Jim, so that old Sock can't help believing that he +stole the money, we shall be cleared; though, as to that, there +isn't a scholar in school who would believe the charge against us." + +"Still, we may as well do what we can to bring the guilt home to Jim +Smith." + +Ten minutes later the two boys entered the shop of Mr. Washburn. + +"Will you show me some rings, Mr. Washburn?" asked Wilkins. + +"Certainly," answered the jeweler, politely. + +"What is the price of that?" asked Wilkins, pointing to one exactly +like the one he had seen on Jim's finger. + +"Three dollars and a half. It is a very pretty pattern." + +"Yes, sir. There's one of our boys who has one just like it." + +"You mean James Smith, the principal's nephew." + +"Yes, sir." + +"He bought it of me yesterday." + +The two boys exchanged a quick glance. + +They felt that they were on the brink of a discovery. + +"Did he give you a five-dollar bill in payment?" asked Ben Platt. + +"Yes," answered the jeweler, in surprise. + +"Could you identify that bill?" + +"What are you driving at, boys?" asked Mr. Washburn, keenly. + +"I will explain to you if you will answer my questions first." + +"Yes, I could identify the bill." + +"Have you it in your possession still?" + +"I have." + +"How will you know it?" + +"It seems to me, my boy, you are in training for a lawyer." + +"I have a very urgent reason for asking you this question, Mr. +Washburn." + +"Then I will answer you. When the note was given me, I noticed that +it was on the Park Bank of New York." + +"Will you be kind enough to see if you can find it?"' + +"Certainly." + +The jeweler opened his money drawer, and after a brief search, +produced the bill in question. + +It was a five-dollar bill on the Park Bank of New York, as he had +already told the boys. + +"Now, Mr. Washburn," asked Wilkins, trying to repress his +excitement, "will you examine the back of the bill, and see if there +is any mark on it." + +The jeweler did as requested, and announced, after slight +examination, that there was a cross on the back of the bill in the +upper right hand corner. + +"Hurrah!" shouted Ben, impulsively. + +To the wondering jeweler he explained his precise object in the +inquiry he had made, and the boys were complimented by Mr. Washburn +for their shrewdness. + +"If I ever meet with a loss, I shall certainly call on you for +assistance, boys," he said. + +"Thank you, Mr. Washburn," answered Wilkins, "but I do not expect to +be here to be called upon." + +"You are not going to leave the institute, are you?" + +"I shall write to my father in what manner I have been treated, and +let him understand how the principal manages the school, and I feel +sure he will withdraw me." + +"Ditto for me!" said Ben Platt. "Old Sock's partiality for his +nephew has been carried too far, and now that the only decent +teacher is going--Mr. Crabb--I don't mean, to stay here if I can +help it." + +The boys, upon their return to the school, sought out the principal. + +"Well, boys," he said, "have you come to confess?" + +"No, sir," answered Ben, "but we have come to give you some +information about your money." + +"I was sure you knew something about it," said Socrates, with a +sneer. "I am glad you have decided to make a clean breast of it." + +"You are mistaken, sir." + +"Well, out with your information!" said the principal, roughly. + +"A five-dollar bill, marked as you have described, was paid to Mr. +Washburn, the jeweler, only yesterday." + +"Ha! Well?" + +"The one who offered it purchased a gold ring." + +"I don't care what he bought. Who was it that offered the money?" + +"Your nephew, James Smith!" + +"I don't believe it," said the teacher, very much disconcerted. + +"Then, sir, I advise you to question Mr. Washburn." + +"How can he identify the bill? Is it the only five-dollar bill he +has?" + +"The only five-dollar bill on the Park Bank of New York, and he says +he noticed that this was the bank that issued the bill handed him by +your nephew." + +"What of that?" + +"The note, which he still has in his possession, is marked just +exactly as you have described." + +"It may have been marked since it came into Mr. Washburn's hands," +said Socrates, but he was evidently very much disturbed by the +intelligence. He might not confess it, but he could not help +believing that Jim was the thief, after all. + +"You can go," he said, harshly. "I will look into this improbable +story." + + + + + + +CHAPTER XXV. + +SMITH INSTITUTE GROWS UNPOPULAR. + + + + + +Hector lost no time in drawing up a statement of the facts connected +with the loss of the wallet, which he got Wilkins and Ben Platt to +sign. This he put into an envelope directed to Allan Roscoe, +accompanied by a brief note, which I subjoin: + +"MR. ROSCOE: I send you a statemeat, signed by two of my +schoolmates, showing that the charge which Mr. Smith was in such a +hurry to bring against me, in order to screen his nephew, who is the +real thief, is wholly unfounded. I am not particularly surprised +that you were ready to believe it, nor do I care enough for your +good opinion to worry. I consider that it is due to myself, however, +to prove to you that I have done nothing of which I need be ashamed. +Finding the scholars here in terror of a bully, who imposed upon his +schoolfellows with impunity because, being the principal's nephew, +he was protected in so doing, I taught him a lesson which may not do +him good, but has certainly been of benefit to his fellow-pupils. In +so doing, I have incurred his enmity, and that of his uncle, who, +for more than one reason, is utterly unfit to conduct a school of +this kind. + +"You threaten to remove me from school at the end of this term. I do +not wish to remain, and shall remove myself at the end of this week. +I shall not look to you for support, nor do I expect again to depend +upon the estate to which I once thought myself the heir, unless I +should be able to prove that I am the son of your brother, as I +fully believe, notwithstanding the letter you exhibit." + +"HECTOR ROSCOE." + +When Mr. Allan Roscoe received this letter he was very much +disturbed. As he had no affection for Hector, and did not care what +became of him, this may, perhaps, excite surprise. Could it be the +last sentence which excited his alarm? + +"Is that letter from Hector?" asked Guy, who had noticed the +postmark as it lay upon his father's table. + +"Yes," answered Allan Roscoe. + +"Does he try to explain his theft?" asked Guy. + +"He says he had nothing to do with it." + +"Oh, of course!" sneered Guy. "You don't believe it, do you?" + +"He sends a statement of two of the pupils to the effect that the +wallet was taken by another pupil, a nephew of the principal." + +"That's too thin!" + +"I don't know. It may be true. I don't like the boy, but I hardly +think it probable he would steal." + +"You think better of him than I do. I suppose he wants to get into +your good graces again?" + +"No; he says he shall leave school at the end of this week, and will +not again look to me for support." + +"That's jolly!" exclaimed Guy, much pleased. "You're well rid of +him, papa. Let him go away and make a living as he can. He'll have +to turn newsboy, or something of that sort--perhaps he'll have to be +a bootblack. Wouldn't that be a good come down for a boy like +Hector?" + +Guy spoke with great glee, but his father did not seem to enjoy his +release as well as Guy. He showed that he understood the boy better +when he said: + +"Hector will not have to resort to any such employmeat. He has a +good education, and he can get some decent position, probably. On +the whole, I am sorry he is going to leave my protection, for +friends of the family may, perhaps, blame me." + +"But it isn't your fault, papa. He is taking his own course." + +"To be sure. You are right there!" + +Mr. Roscoe thought so much on the subject, however, that the next +day he went to Smith Institute to see Hector, without telling Guy +where he was going. + +Arrived there, he asked to see Mr. Smith. + +The latter did not appear to be in a happy frame of mind. + +"How do you do, Mr. Roscoe?" he said. + +"Very well," answered Mr. Roscoe, briefly. "Mr. Smith, I wish to see +my ward." + +"I am sorry you cannot see him, Mr. Roscoe." + +"Cannot see him! Why not?" + +"Because he has left the institute." + +Allan Roscoe frowned. + +"Why has he left?" he asked. + +"He has left against my will. I think he has been influenced by an +usher in my employ who has behaved very ungratefully. I took him, +sir, when he was in danger of starving, and now he leaves me at a +day's notice, after doing all he can to break up my school." + +"I feel no particular interest in your usher," said Allan Roscoe, +coldly. "I wish to obtain information about the boy I placed under +your charge. Do you know where he has gone?" + +"No; he did not tell me," answered the principal. + +"You wrote me that he had been detected in stealing a wallet!" + +"Yes," answered Socrates, embarrassed. "Appearances were very much +against him." + +"Do you still think he took it?" + +"I may have been mistaken," answered Mr. Smith, nervously, for he +began to see that the course he had been pursuing was a very unwise +one. + +"Hector has written me, inclosing a statement signed by two of his +schoolfellows, implicating your own nephew, and he charges that you +made the charge against him out of partiality for the same." + +"There is considerable prejudice against my nephew," said Socrates. + +"And for very good reasons, I should judge," said Allan Roscoe, +severely. "Hector describes him as an outrageous bully and tyrant. I +am surprised, Mr. Smith, that you should have taken his part." + +Now, Socrates had already had a stormy interview with his nephew. +Though partial to Jim, and not caring whether or not he bullied the +other boys, as soon as he came to see that Jim's presence was +endangering the school, he reprimanded him severely. He cared more +for himself--for number one--than for anyone else in the universe. +He had been exceedingly disturbed by receiving letters from the +fathers of Wilkins and Ben Platt, and two other fathers, giving +notice that they should remove their sons at the end of the term, +and demanding, in the meantime, that his nephew should be sent away +forthwith. + +And now Allan Roscoe, whom he had hoped would side with him, had +also turned against him. Then he had lost the services of a +competent usher, whom he got cheaper than he could secure any +suitable successor, and, altogether, things seemed all going against +him. + +Moreover, Jim, who had been the occasion of all the trouble, had +answered him impudently, and Socrates felt that he had been badly +used. As to his own agency in the matter, he did not give much +thought to that. + +"My nephew is going to leave the school, Mr. Roscoe," said Socrates, +half-apologetically. + +"I should think it was full time, Mr. Smith." + +"Perhaps so," said Smith; "but if I have stood by him, it has been +in ignorance. I cannot think him as wrong as your ward has probably +represented. Hector was jealous of him." + +"Of his scholarship, I presume?" + +"Well, no," answered the principal, reluctantly, "but of his +physical superiority, and--and influence in the school. I may say, +in fact, Mr. Roscoe, that till your ward entered the school it was a +happy and harmonious family. His coming stirred up strife and +discontent, and I consider him primarily responsible for all the +trouble that has occurred." + +"I don't defend Hector Roscoe," said Allan, "but he writes me that +your nephew was a bully, who imposed upon his schoolfellows, and +that he, by taking their part and stopping this tyranny, incurred +his ill-will and yours." + +"I supposed I should be misrepresented," said Socrates, meekly. "I +am devoted to my school and my pupils, Mr. Roscoe. I am wearing out +my life in their service. I may make mistakes sometimes, but my +heart--my heart, Mr. Roscoe," continued Socrates, tapping his +waistcoat, "is right, and acquits me of any intentional injustice." + +"I am glad to hear it, Mr. Smith," said Allan Roscoe, stiffly. "As +Hector has left you, I have only to settle your bill, and bid you +good-day." + +"Will you not exert your influence to persuade the boy to return?" +pleaded Socrates. + +"As I don't know where he is, I don't see how I can," said Allan +Roscoe, dryly. + +"That man is an arch hypocrite!" he said to himself, as he was +returning home. + +I may state here that at the end of the term half the pupils left +Smith Institute, and Socrates Smith lamented too late the folly that +had made him and his school unpopular. + + + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI. + +HECTOR'S ARRIVAL IN NEW YORK. + + + + + +Mr. Crabb and Hector were sitting side by side in a railroad car, +speeding away from Smith Institute. In the heart of each was a +feeling of relief, which increased as each minute carried them +farther away from the school. + +"Hector," said the usher, looking younger and happier than his pupil +had ever known him, "I feel like a free man now. It is a feeling +that I have not had since I first set foot in Smith Institute." + +"I think you will lead a happier life in New York, Mr. Crabb." + +"I am sure of it. Thanks to your considerate kindness, I shall for +the first time earn an ample salary, and even be able to lay up +money. Is my future pupil about your age?" + +"He is a year younger." + +"Where did you make his acquaintance?" + +"At Saratoga, My father and I spent two months at Congress Hall two +summers ago, and as Walter's family were also there, we naturally +got to be friends. He is a capital fellow, and you will be sure to +like him." + +"I am ready to like him after reading that letter he wrote you. Is +he fond of study?" + +"That is his weak point," said Hector, laughing. "Walter was never +cut out for a scholar. I don't mean, of course, that he hasn't fair +capacity, but his taste doesn't lie that way. However, he won't give +you any trouble, only you won't succeed as well as you may wish in +pushing him on." + +"All boys are not cut out for scholars," said the usher. "Now you, +Hector, would do excellently, and might hope to make a very +successful professional man." + +Hector shook his head. + +"I must look to a different career," he said. "I am to be the +architect of my own fortune, you know." + +"What are your plans, Hector?" asked the usher. + +"I will consult with Mr. Boss, Walter's father. By the way, he knows +nothing of the change in my circumstances. He supposes me to be the +heir to the Roscoe estate." + +"Trouble has come upon you early, Hector. Should you need help +hereafter, you must remember that I am earning a good salary and--" + +"Thank you, Mr. Crabb," gratefully, "but you will need all you earn. +I don't look upon my loss of fortune as a trouble. I think it will +make me more manly and self-reliant, and stimulate me to exertion. I +have a fair education, and I am sure I can earn my living in some +honest way." + +"If that is your spirit, Hector, I am sure you will succeed. You are +young and hopeful. I am too much inclined to despond. I have always +been timid about the future. It is a matter of temperament." + +It was early in the afternoon when they reached New York. As they +emerged from the depot a bright-faced boy came up eagerly and +greeted them. + +"How are you, Hector?" he said. "You see, I came to meet you. I have +been longing to have you come." + +"I am just as glad to see you, Walter," said Hector, heartily. "Mr. +Crabb, here is your future pupil, Walter Boss." + +"I hope we may soon be friends, Walter," said the usher, attracted +by the bright, sunny face of the boy. + +Walter gave the usher his hand. + +"I hope so, too," he said, smiling. "I'll try not to worry you any +more than I can help." + +"I have no misgivings," said Mr. Crabb, as he mentally contrasted +his new pupil with Jim Smith, and two or three others at the +institute, who had been a frequent source of trouble and annoyance. + +"Here is the carriage," said Walter, pointing out a plain but +handsome carriage waiting outside. "Bundle in, both of you! I beg +your pardon, Mr. Crabb, for my familiarity. That was intended for +Hector." + +"I am ready to be classed with Hector," said Mr. Crabb. + +"I am glad to hear you say so. I was afraid you would be stiff and +dignified." + +"I think I shall take my cue from you." + +"Oh, my rule is, go as you please. Edward, drive home!" + +The house occupied by Mr. Boss was a fine brown-stone dwelling on +Forty-second Street. Arrived there, Mr. Crabb was shown into a +spacious chamber, on the third floor, furnished with a luxury to +which the poor usher was quite unaccustomed. + +"Now, Hector, you can have a room to yourself, or you may share my +den," said Walter. + +"I would rather share the den," said Hector. + +"That's what I hoped. You see, we shall have ever so much to say to +each other. We haven't seen each other for over a year." + +A slight shade of gravity overspread Hector's face. Since he had met +his friend, his father had died, and he had been reduced from the +heir of wealth to a penniless orphan. Of this last change Walter +knew nothing, but Hector did not mean long to leave him in +ignorance. + +At dinner the two newcomers saw Mr. Ross, from whom they received a +friendly welcome. The usher was put at his ease at once. + +"I hope you'll get along with my boy," said the bluff city merchant. +"Of one thing you may be assured, your scholarship won't be severely +taxed in educating him. Walter is a pretty good boy, but he isn't a +prodigy of learning." + +"I may be some day, father," said Walter, "with Mr. Crabb's help." + +"I take it Mr. Crabb isn't able to perform miracles," said Mr. Ross, +good-humoredly. "No, Mr. Crabb, I shan't expect too much of you. Get +your pupil on moderately fast, and I shall be satisfied. I am glad, +Hector, that you were able to pay Walter a visit at this time." + +"So am I, sir." + +"I thought you might not be able to leave your studies." + +"I have given up study, sir." + +"I am surprised at that, Hector. I thought you contemplated going to +college." + +"So I did, sir, but circumstances have changed my plans." + +"Indeed!" + +"Yes, sir; I will explain after dinner, and will ask your advice." + +Mr. Ross dropped the subject, and after dinner led the way to the +library, where he sank into an armchair, and, breathing a sigh of +satisfaction, said: "This, Mr. Crabb, is the most enjoyable part of +the twenty-four hours for me. I dismiss business cares and +perplexities, and read my evening paper, or some new book, in +comfort." + +As the usher looked about him and saw costly books, engravings, +furniture and pictures, he could well understand that in such +surroundings the merchant could take solid comfort. It was a most +agreeable contrast to the plain and poverty-stricken room at Smith +Institute, where the boys pursued their evening studies under his +superintendence. + +"Well, Hector, so you don't propose to go back to school," said the +merchant. "Isn't that rather a sudden resolution?" + +"Yes, sir; but, as I said, circumstances have changed." + +"What circumstances? Because you are rich, you don't think you ought +to be idle, I hope?" + +"Oh, no, sir. It is because I have discovered that I am not rich." + +"Not rich! I always understood that your father left a large +estate," said Mr. Ross, in surprise. + +"So he did, sir." + +"Didn't it descend to you?" + +"I thought so till recently." + +"Why don't you think so now?" + +In answer, Hector told the story of the revelation made to him by +Allan Roscoe, after his father's death. + +"You see, therefore," he concluded, "that I am penniless, and a +dependent upon Mr. Allan Roscoe's generosity." + +"This is a most extraordinary story!" said the merchant, after a +pause. + +"Yes, sir; it changes my whole future." + +"I suppose Mr. Allan Roscoe is the beneficiary, and the estate goes +to him?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Did your father--the late Mr. Roscoe--ever hint to you anything +which could lead you to suspect that you were not his own, but an +adopted son?" + +"Never, Mr. Ross," answered Hector, with emphasis. + +"Did he continue to treat you with affection." + +"Always. Nothing in his manner ever would have led me to imagine +that I was not his own son." + +"He left no will?" + +"No, sir." + +"What are your plans?" + +"I do not wish to remain dependent upon Allan Roscoe. I should like +to obtain a situation of some kind in the city, if I can." + +"I can probably serve you, then, after a while. For the present, +stay here as Walter's companion." + +"Thank you, sir; I should like nothing better." + + + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII. + +LARRY DEANE. + + + + + +Not altogether in accordance with his inclinations, Walter was set +to work at his studies immediately under the direction of Mr. Crabb. +He asked his father for a week's vacation to go about the city with +Hector, but his father answered in the negative. + +"You are too far behind in your studies, Walter," he said. "You are +two years, at least, behind Hector, and cannot spare the time as +well as he." + +"Hector will have to go round alone," objected Walter. + +"It will do him no harm to get acquainted with the different parts +of the city, as that will be a kind of knowledge he may require if +he should obtain a situation." + +"I shan't see much of him." + +"Oh, yes, you will; Mr. Crabb will not make you study all day. Mr. +Crabb, you may work with Walter from nine to one. This, with perhaps +an hour or more devoted to study in the afternoon or evening, will +enable him to make fair progress." + +This arrangement struck Walter favorably, as he could, whenever he +desired it, spend the whole afternoon with Hector. + +Hector found it very pleasant to act upon the suggestion made by Mr. +Ross. He had visited the city of New York at different times, but +had never enjoyed the opportunity of exploring it by himself. His +first visit was made to Central Park, where he mingled with the +crowds wandering about in search of pleasure. + +He made his way to the lake, and took passage in one of the skiffs +which, in charge of a skilled oarsman, makes a tour of the pretty +and picturesque sheet of water. + +The second morning he turned his steps southward, and walked down +Broadway. It was a leisurely walk, for he had no scruple in stopping +wherever he saw anything in the streets or in the shop windows that +seemed to him worthy of attention. About the corner of Canal Street +he was very much surprised at a boy who was on his knees, blacking +the boots of an elderly gentleman--a boy whom he recognized at once +as the son of a man who had for years been in his father's employ as +gardener at Castle Roscoe. + +"What brings him here?" thought Hector, much surprised. + +"Larry Deane!" he said, as the boy finished his job, and rose from +his feet to receive his pay. + +"Hector Roscoe!" exclaimed Larry, not much less surprised. + +"What brings you here, and what has reduced you to such work?" +inquired Hector. + +Larry Deane was a boy of about Hector's age. He was a +healthy-looking country lad, looking like many another farmer's son, +fresh from the country. He had not yet acquired that sharp, keen +look which characterizes, in most cases, the New York boy who has +spent all his life in the streets. + +"I can answer both your questions with the same word, Master +Hector," said Larry, as a sober look swept over his broad, honest +face. + +"Don't call me master, Larry. We are equals here. But what is that +word?" + +"That word is trouble,'" answered the bootblack. + +"Come with me into this side street," said Hector, leading the way +into Howard Street. "You have a story to tell, and I want to hear +it." + +"Yes, I have a story to tell." + +"I hope your father and mother are well," said Hector, interrupting +him. + +"Yes, they are well in health, but they are in trouble, as I told +you." + +"What is the trouble?" + +"It all comes of Mr. Allan Roscoe," answered Larry, "and his son, +Guy." + +"Tell me all about it." + +"I was walking in the fields one day," said Larry, "when Guy came +out and began to order me round, and call me a clodhopper and other +unlikely names, which I didn't enjoy. Finally he pulled off my hat, +and when I put it back on my head, he pulled it off again. Finally I +found the only way to do was to give him as good as he sent. So I +pulled off his hat and threw it up in a tree. He became very angry, +and ordered me to go up after it. I wouldn't do it, but walked away. +The next day my father was summoned to the house, where Mr. Allan +Roscoe complained of me for insulting his son. He asked my father to +thrash me, and when father refused, he discharged him from his +employment. A day or two afterward a new gardener came to Roscoe +Castle, and father understood that there was no chance of his being +taken back." + +"That was very mean in Mr. Roscoe," said Hector, indignantly. + +"Yes, so it was; but father couldn't do anything. He couldn't get a +new place, for it wasn't the right time of year, and Mr. Roscoe said +he wouldn't give him a recommendation. Well, we had very little +money in the house, for mother has been sick of late years, and all +father's extra earnings went to pay for medicines and the doctor's +bill. So one day I told father I would come to New York and see if I +couldn't find something to do." + +"I think you did the right thing, Larry," said Hector, approvingly. +"It was your duty to help your father if you could." + +"I can't help him much," answered Larry. + +"What made you take up this business, Larry?" + +"I couldn't get anything else to do. besides, this pays better than +working in a store or office." + +"How--much can you earn at it?" + +"Six or seven dollars a week." + +"I should think it would require all that to support you." + +"It would if I went to a boarding house, but I can't afford that," + +"Where do you live?" + +"At the Newsboys' Lodging House." + +"How much does that cost you?" + +"For eighteen cents a day I get supper, lodging and breakfast. In +the middle of the day I go to a cheap restaurant." + +"Then you are able to save something?" + +"Yes; last week I sent home three dollars, the week before two +dollars and a half." + +"Why, that is doing famously. You are a good boy, Larry." + +"Thank you, Hector; but, though it is doing very well for me, it +isn't as much as they need at home. Besides, I can't keep it up, as, +after a while, I shall need to buy some new clothes. If your father +had been alive, my father would never have lost his place. Master +Hector, won't you use your influence with your uncle to have him +taken back?" + +Hector felt keenly how powerless he was in the matter. He looked +grave, as he answered: + +"Larry, you may be sure that I would do all in my power to have your +father restored to the position from which he never should have been +removed; but I fear I can do nothing." + +"Won't you write to Mr. Roscoe?" pleaded Larry, who, of course, did +not understand why Hector was powerless. + +"Yes, I will write to him, but I am sorry to say that I have very +little influence with Mr. Roscoe." + +"That is strange," said Larry; "and you the owner of the estate." + +Hector did not care to explain to Larry just how matters stood, so +he only said: + +"I can't explain to you what seems strange to you, Larry, but I may +be able to do so some time. I will certainly write to Mr. Roscoe, as +you desire; but you must not build any hopes upon it. Meanwhile, +will you accept this from me, and send it to your father?" + +As he spoke, he drew from his pocketbook a five-dollar bill and +handed it to his humble friend. + +Larry would not have accepted it had he known that Hector was nearly +as poor as himself, but, supposing him to be the heir of a large and +rich estate, he felt no hesitation. + +"Thank you very much, Hector," he said; "you had always a kind +heart. This money will do my father very much good. I will send it +to him to-day." + +"Do you generally stand here, Larry?" asked Hector. + +"Yes." + +"Then I will take pains to see you again." + +"Shall you stay long in the city, Master Hector?" + +"Not Master Hector." + +"Then Hector, if you don't mind." + +"I shall be here for the present--I don't know how long." + +"Then let me black your boots for nothing every time you come by--I +want to do something for you." + +"Thank you, Larry; but I don't like to have a friend perform such a +service. Remember me to your father when you write." + +"I wish I could do something for Larry," said Hector, to himself, as +he walked away. "As it is, I stand in need of help myself." + +He was to make a friend that day under rather unusual circumstances. + + + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII. + +TWO MORE ACQUAINTANCES. + + + + + +Hector continued his walk downtown. Despite the crowds of persons +who thronged the sidewalks, he did not anticipate meeting anyone +else that he knew. But he was destined to another surprise. On the +corner of Murray Street he saw two persons advancing toward him, the +last, perhaps, that he expected to see. Not to keep the reader in +suspense, it was Allan Roscoe and his son, Guy. + +Guy was the first to recognize Hector. Of course, he, too, was +surprised. + +"Why, there's Hector!" he exclaimed, directing his father's +attention to our hero. + +Allan Roscoe looked up quickly. It is hard to tell whether he felt +glad or the reverse at this meeting with the boy whom he called his +ward. + +An instant later Hector recognized Guy and his father. + +"How do you do, Mr. Roscoe?" he said, politely. + +"Very well. When did you reach New York?" + +"On Saturday." + +It should have been explained that Hector had spent Sunday quietly +with Mr. Ross and Walter, and that this was Monday. + +"Ahem! I was very much surprised at your leaving the institute," +said Mr. Roscoe. + +"I explained to you in my letter why I proposed to leave it," Hector +answered, coldly. + +"I did not think your reason sufficient." + +"As Mr. Smith saw fit to bring a base charge against me, and +persisted in it, even after he must have been convinced that his +nephew was guilty, I was unwilling to remain under his charge any +longer." + +"The circumstances were against you," said Mr. Roscoe. + +"You might have known me better than that, Mr. Roscoe," said Hector, +proudly. "Yet you condemned me unheard." + +"Of course, I am very glad that the charge is unfounded," said Mr. +Roscoe, awkwardly. + +"Where there is smoke there is generally fire," said Guy, +spitefully. + +"I understand you, Guy," said Hector, half turning to look at the +boy who had usurped his place. "I hope you won't think it impolite +if I say that I care nothing whatever for your opinion." + +"You put on as many airs as ever," sneered Guy. "I should think you +would be a little more humble in your changed position." + +"I have not changed, even if my position has," answered Hector. +"Money is nothing to be proud of." + +"I apprehend that the world judges differently," said Allan Roscoe. +"Since you have taken your destiny into your own hands, you will +excuse me for asking how you intend to earn your living?" + +"I hope to get a mercantile position," answered Hector. + +"Take my advice," said Guy, with a derisive smile, "and buy yourself +a blacking box and brush. I am told bootblacks make a good deal of +money." + +"Hush, Guy!" said his father. "Do not insult Hector." + +But Hector concerned himself but little with any slight received +from Guy Roscoe. His words, however, recalled his thoughts to the +boy he had so recently met, Larry Deane, and he resolved to see if +he could not help him by an appeal to Allan Roscoe. + +"Mr. Roscoe," said he, quickly, "I nearly forgot something I want +very much to say to you." + +"What is it?" asked his guardian, suspiciously. It occurred to him +that Hector wished to borrow some money, and he was considering how +little he could decently give him. + +"I hear you have discharged Reuben Deane from his position?" + +"How did you hear it?" + +"From his son, Larry." + +"Where did you see Larry?" asked Allan, in some curiosity. + +"He has been driven to take up that employment which Guy so kindly +recommended to me." + +"Larry Deane a bootblack! That's a good one!" exclaimed Guy, with +evident relish. + +"I don't think so," said Hector. "The poor boy is picking a poor +living, and sending home what he can to his father, who cannot get +new employment. Mr. Roscoe, why did you discharge him?" + +"I can answer that question, though it's none of your business all +the same," volunteered Guy. "The boy Larry was impudent to me, and +his father took his part." + +"Mr. Roscoe," said Hector, "Reuben Deane was in my father's employ +before I was born. Larry and I used to play together when we were +little boys, and since when we were older." + +"A bootblack is a nice playmate," said Guy, with his usual sneer. + +"He was not a bootblack then," retorted Hector, "nor would he be now +but for your mean spite. Mr. Roscoe, as I happen to know, my father +always valued the services of Reuben Deane, and I ask, in his name, +that you give him back his place." + +"My brother may have been deceived in him," said Allan Roscoe, +coldly, emphasizing the first two words, in order to remind Hector +that he was no longer to consider him as his father; "but I cannot +promise to adopt all his views and protege's. I have displaced Deane +and substituted for him a gardener with whom I am better pleased." + +"Have you no sympathy for the poverty and distress of a man who has +served our family faithfully for so many years?" asked Hector, half +indignantly. + +"My father is competent to manage his own affairs," said Guy, +offensively. + +"You don't appear to think so, or you would not answer for him," +retorted Hector. + +"Boys, I must request you to desist from this bickering," said Allan +Roscoe. "I am sorry, Hector, that I cannot comply with your request. +By the way, you did not tell me where you were staying." + +"With a gentlman on Forty-second Street." + +"What is his name?" + +"Andrew Ross." + +"Not the eminent merchant of that name?" asked Allan Roscoe, in +surprise. + +"Yes, I believe so." + +"He is worth a million." + +"I supposed he was rich. He lives in an elegant house." + +"Where did you get acquainted with him, Hector?" + +"At Saratoga, a year and a half ago." + +"Did you beg him to take you in?" asked Guy, unpleasantly. + +Hector quietly ignored the question. + +"Walter Boss and I have been very intimate, and I was invited to pay +him a visit." + +"Does he know that you are a poor boy?" asked Guy. + +"I have communicated to Mr. Ross what your father told me," answered +Hector, coldly. "He is a real friend, and it made no difference in +his treatment of me. I hope to get a situation through his +influence." + +"You are lucky to have such a man for a friend," said Allan Roscoe, +who would himself have liked to become acquainted with a man whose +social position was so high. "I hope you will not misrepresent me to +him. Should any opportunity occur, I will try to procure you +employment." + +"Thank you, sir," said Hector, but his tone lacked heartiness. He +saw that his being a visitor to Mr. Ross and his son had made a +difference in his favor. Guy, too, began to think he might be a +little more gracious. He, like his father, liked to associate with +boys of high social position, and he would have liked to be +introduced to Walter Ross. + +"What is your number?" he asked of Hector, "I don't know but I'll +call and see you some time. Is Walter Ross generally at home?" + +"Don't put yourself to any inconvenience to call," said Hector, +significantly. "Walter and I are generally away in the afternoon." + +"Oh, I don't care to call upon you," said Guy, annoyed. "I can have +all the company I want." + +"I won't detain you any longer, Mr. Roscoe," said Hector, realizing +that the conversation had occupied considerable time. +"Good-morning." + +"That boy is as proud as ever," said Guy, after Hector had left +them. "He doesn't seem to realize that he has lost his money." + +"He has not had time to realize it yet. It won't be long before he +will understand the difference it makes." + +"I am glad he isn't my cousin," continued Guy. "I dislike him more +than any boy I know." + +Allan Roscoe looked thoughtful. + +"I fear that boy will give me trouble yet," he said to himself. "He +evidently suspects that something is wrong." + + + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX. + +JIM SMITH EFFECTS A LOAN. + + + + + +After parting with Allan Roscoe and Guy, Hector kept on his way +downtown. He did not expect to meet any more acquaintances, but he +was again to be surprised. Standing on the sidewalk having his boots +blacked, he recognized the schoolfellow he had least reason to +like--Jim Smith. + +"What brings Jim here?" he asked himself, in some surprise. + +He did not feel inclined to go up and claim acquaintance, but it +chanced that he became witness of a piece of meanness characteristic +of Jim. + +When the young bootblack had finished polishing his shoes, he waited +for his customary fee. + +Jim fumbled in his pockets, and finally produced two cents. + +"There, boy," he said, placing them in the hand of the disgusted +knight of the brush. + +"What's that for?" he asked. + +"It's your pay." + +"Look here, mister, you've made a mistake; here's only two cents." + +"I know it." + +"Do you think I work for any such price as that?" + +"Perhaps you expect a dollar!" sneered Jim. + +"No, I don't; but a nickel's my lowest price. Plenty of gentlemen +give me a dime." + +"That's too much; I've paid you all I'm going to." + +"Wait a minute. That boot don't look as well as the other." + +Jim unsuspiciously allowed the boy to complete his work, but he had +occasion to regret it. The bootblack hastily rubbed his brush in the +mud on the sidewalk and daubed it on one of Jim's boots, quite +effacing the shine. + +"There, that'll do," he said, and, scrambling to his feet, ran round +the corner. + +Then, for the first time, Jim looked down, and saw what the boy had +done. He uttered an exclamation of disgust and looked round hastily +to see where the offender had betaken himself. His glance fell upon +Hector, who was quietly looking on, and not without a sense of +enjoyment. + +It often happens that we greet cordially those for whom we have even +a feeling of aversion when we meet them unexpectedly away from our +usual haunts. Jim, who was beginning to regret that circumstances +had forced him to leave the serene sanctuary of Smith Institute, +since now he would be under the necessity of making his own living, +was glad to see our hero. + +"Is it you, Roscoe?" he said, eagerly. + +"Yes," answered Hector, coolly. + +"What are you doing?" + +"Walking about the city, just at present." + +"Suppose we go together." + +Hector hardly knew how to refuse, and the two boys kept down +Broadway in company. + +"You're surprised to see me, ain't you?" asked Jim. + +"Rather so." + +"You see, I got tired of the school. I're been there three years, so +I told my uncle I would come to New York and see if I couldn't get +work." + +"I hope you may succeed," said Hector, for he would not allow his +dislikes to carry him too far. He felt that there was room in the +world for Jim and himself, too. + +"Are you going to work?" asked Jim. + +"I hope so." + +"Got anything in view?" + +"Not exactly.'" + +"It would be a good thing if we could get into the same place." + +"Do you say that because we have always agreed so well?" asked +Hector, amused. + +"We may be better friends in future," said Jim, with a grin. + +Hector was judiciously silent. + +"Where are you staying?" + +"Up on Forty-second Street." + +"That's a good way uptown, isn't it?" + +"Yes, pretty far up." + +"Are you boarding?" + +"No; I am visiting some friends." + +"Couldn't you get me in there as one of your school friends?" + +This question indicated such an amount of assurance on the part of +his old enemy that at first Hector did not know how to reply in +fitting terms. + +"I couldn't take such a liberty with my friends," he said. "Besides, +it doesn't strike me that we were on very intimate terms." + +But Jim was not sensitive to a rebuff. + +"The fact is," he continued, "I haven't got much money, and it would +be very convenient to visit somebody. Perhaps you could lend me five +dollars?" + +"I don't think I could. I think I shall have to say good-morning." + +"I can't make anything out of him," said Jim to himself, +philosophically. "I wonder if he's got any money. Uncle Socrates +told me his uncle had cast him off." + +Going up Broadway instead of down, it was not long before Jim met +Allan Roscoe and Guy, whom he immediately recognized. Not being +troubled with immodesty, he at once walked up to Mr. Roscoe and held +out his hand. + +"Good-morning, Mr. Roscoe!" he said, in an ingratiating voice. + +"Good-morning, young man. Where have I met you?" asked Allan Roscoe, +puzzled. + +"At Smith Institute. I am the nephew of Mr. Smith." + +"What! Not the nephew who--" + +Mr. Roscoe found it hard to finish the sentence. He didn't like to +charge Jim with stealing to his face. + +"I know what you mean," said Jim, boldly. "I am the one whom your +nephew charged with taking money which he took himself. I don't want +to say anything against him, as he is your nephew, but he is an +artful young--but no matter. You are his uncle." + +"He is not my nephew, but was only cared for by my brother," said +Allan Roscoe. "You may tell me freely, my good fellow, all the +truth. You say that Hector stole the money which your uncle lost." + +"Yes; but he has made my uncle believe that I took it. It is hard +upon me," said Jim, pathetically, "as I was dependent upon my uncle. +I have been driven forth into the cold world by my benefactor +because your nephew prejudiced his mind against me." + +"I believe him, papa," said Guy, who was only too glad to believe +anything against Hector. "I have thought all along that Hector was +guilty." + +"Is that your son?" asked the crafty Jim. "I wish he had come to the +institute, instead of Hector. He is a boy that I couldn't help +liking." + +There are few who are altogether inaccessible to flattery. At any +rate, Guy was not one of this small number. + +"I feel sure you are not guilty," said Guy, regarding Jim +graciously. "It was a very mean thing in Hector to get you into +trouble." + +"It was, indeed," said Jim. "I am cast out of my uncle's house, and +now I have no home, and hardly any money." + +"Hector is in the city. Have you seen him?" asked Allan Roscoe. + +"Yes; I met him a few minutes since." + +"Did you speak to him?" + +"Yes; I reproached him for getting me into trouble, but he only +laughed in my face. He told me he hated you both," added Jim, +ingenuously. + +"Just like Hector!" said Guy. "What have I always told you, papa?" + +"I am sorry you have suffered such injustice at the hands of anyone +in any way connected with my family," said Mr. Roscoe, who, like +Guy, was not indisposed to believe anything to the discredit of +Hector. "I do not feel responsible for his unworthy acts, but I am +willing to show my sympathy by a small gift." + +He produced a five-dollar note and put it into Jim's ready hand. + +"Thank you, sir," he said. "You are a gentleman." + +So the interview closed, and Jim left the spot, chuckling at the +manner in which he had wheedled so respectable a sum out of Allan +Roscoe. + +Meanwhile Hector, after looking about him, turned, and, getting into +a Broadway stage, rode uptown as far as Twenty-third Street, where +the stage turned down toward Sixth Avenue. He concluded to walk the +remainder of the way. + +As he was walking up Madison Avenue, his attention was drawn to a +little girl in charge of a nursemaid. The latter met an acquaintance +and forgot her charge. The little girl, left to herself, attempted +to cross the street just as a private carriage was driven rapidly up +the avenue. The driver was looking away, and it seemed as if, +through the double neglect of the driver and the nurse, the poor +child would be crushed beneath the hoofs of the horses and the +wheels of the carriage. + + + + + + +CHAPTER XXX. + +A BRAVE DEED. + + + + + +Hector's heart stood still as he realized the peril of the child. He +dashed forward on the impulse of the moment, and barely succeeded in +catching up the little girl and drawing her back out of harm's way. +The driver, who had done his best to rein up his horses, but without +success, ejaculated with fervent gratitude, for he, too, had a child +of his own about the age of the little girl, "God bless you, boy." + +The little girl seemed less concerned than anyone of the spectators. +She put her hand confidently in Hector's, and said: "Take me to +Mary." + +"And who is Mary?" asked Hector, kindly. + +He did not require an answer, for the nurse, who, rather late in the +day, had awakened to the fact that her charge was in danger, came +running forward, crying: "Oh! Miss Gracie, what made you run away?" + +"The little girl would have been killed but for this boy's timely +help," said a middle-aged spectator, gravely. + +"I'm sure I don't know what possessed her to run away," said Mary, +confusedly. + +"She wouldn't if she had been properly looked after," said the +gentleman, sharply, for he had children of his own. + +Hector was about to release the child, now that he had saved her, +but she was not disposed to let him go. + +"You go with me, too!" she said. + +She was a pretty child, with a sweet face, rimmed round by golden +curls, her round, red cheeks glowing with exercise. + +"What is her name?" asked Hector, of the nurse. + +"Grace Newman," answered the nurse, who felt the necessity of saying +something in her own defense. "She's a perfect little runaway. She +worries my life out running round after her." + +"Grace Newman!" said the middle-aged gentleman already referred to. +"Why, she must be the child of my friend, Titus Newman, of Pearl +Street." + +"Yes, sir," said the nurse. + +"My old friend little knows what a narrow escape his daughter has +had." + +"I hope you won't tell him, sir," said Mary, nervously. + +"Why not?" + +"Because he would blame me." + +"And so he ought!" said the gentleman, nodding vigorously. "It's no +merit of yours that she wasn't crushed beneath the wheels of that +carriage. If you had been attending to your duty, she wouldn't have +been in danger." + +"I don't see as it's any business of yours," said Mary, pertly. "You +ain't her father, or her uncle." + +"I am a father, and have common humanity," said the gentleman, "and +I consider you unfit for your place." + +"Come along, Grace!" said Mary, angry at being blamed. "You've +behaved very badly, and I'm going to take you home." + +"Won't you come, too?" asked the little girl, turning to Hector. + +"No, there's no call for him to come," said the nurse, pulling the +child away. + +"Good-by, Gracie," said Hector, kindly. + +"Good-by!" responded the child. + +"These nursemaids neglect their charges criminally," said the +gentleman, directing his remarks to Hector. "Mr. Newman owes his +child's safety, perhaps her life, to your prompt courage." + +"She was in great danger," said Hector. "I was afraid at first I +could not save her." + +"A second later and it would have been too late. What is your name, +my brave young friend?" + +"Hector Roscoe, sir." + +"It is a good name. Do you live in the city?" + +"At present I do, sir. I was brought up in the country." + +"Going to school, I take it." + +"I am looking for a place, sir." + +"I wish I had one to give you. I retired from business two years +since, and have no employment for anyone." + +"Thank you, sir; I should have liked to serve you." + +"But I'll tell you what, my young friend, I have a considerable +acquaintance among business men. If you will give me your address, I +may have something to communicate to you ere long." + +"Thank you, sir." + +Hector drew a card from his pocket, and added to it the number of +Mr. Ross' house. + +"I am much obliged to you for your kind offer," he said. + +"You don't look as if you stood in need of employment," said the +gentleman, noticing the fine material of which Hector's suit was +made. + +"Appearances are sometimes deceitful," said Hector, half smiling. + +"You must have been brought up in affluence," said Mr. Davidson, for +this was his name. + +"Yes, sir, I was. Till recently I supposed myself rich." + +"You shall tell me the story some time; now I must leave you." + +"Well," thought Hector, as he made his way homeward, "I have had +adventures enough for one morning." + +When Hector reached the house in Forty-second Street, he found +Walter just rising from his lessons. + +"Well, Hector, what have you been doing?" asked Walter. + +"Wandering about the city." + +"Did you see anybody you knew while doing so?" + +"Oh, yes! I was particularly favored. I saw Allan Roscoe and Guy--" + +"You don't say so! Were they glad to see you?" + +"Not particularly. When Guy learned that I was staying here, he +proposed to call and make your acquaintance." + +"I hope you didn't encourage him," said Walter, with a grimace. + +"No; I told him that we were generally out in the afternoon." + +"That is right." + +"I suppose you have been hard at work, Walter?" + +"Ask Mr. Crabb." + +"Walter has done very well," said the usher. "If he will continue to +study as well, I shall have no fault to find." + +"If I do, will you qualify me to be a professor in twelve months' +time?" + +"I hope not, for in that case I should lose my scholar, and have to +bow to his superior knowledge." + +"Then you don't know everything, Mr. Crabb?" + +"Far from it! I hope your father didn't engage me in any such +illusion." + +"Because," said Walter, "I had one teacher who pretended to know all +there was worth knowing. I remember how annoyed he was once when I +caught him in a mistake in geography." + +"I shall not be annoyed at all when you find me out in a mistake, +for I don't pretend to be very learned." + +"Then I think we'll get along," said Walter, favorably impressed by +the usher's modesty. + +"I suppose if I didn't know anything we should get along even +better," said Mr. Crabb, amused. + +"Well, perhaps that might be carrying things too far!" Walter +admitted. + +In the afternoon Hector and Walter spent two hours at the gymnasium +in Twenty-eighth Street, and walked leisurely home after a healthful +amount of exercise. + +For some reason, which he could not himself explain, Hector said +nothing to Walter about his rescue of the little girl on Madison +Avenue, though he heard of it at the gymnasium. + +One of the boys, Henry Carroll, said to Walter: "There was a little +girl came near being run over on Madison Avenue this noon!" + +"Did you see it?" + +"No, but I heard of it." + +"Who was the little girl?" + +"Grace Newman." + +"I know who she is. How did it happen?" + +The boy gave a pretty correct account. + +"Some boy saved her," he concluded, "by running forward and hauling +her out of the road just in time. He ran the risk of being run over +himself. Mr. Newman thinks everything of little Grace. I'd like to +be in that boy's shoes." + +Neither of the boys noticed that Hector's face was flushed, as he +listened to the account of his own exploit. + +The next morning, among the letters laid upon the breakfast table +was one for Hector Roscoe. + +"A letter for you, Hector," said Mr. Ross, examining the envelope in +some surprise. "Are you acquainted with Titus Newman, the Pearl +Street merchant?" + +"No, sir," answered Hector, in secret excitement. + +"He seems to have written to you," said Mr. Ross. + +Hector took the letter and tore open the envelope. + + + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI. + +AN IMPORTANT LETTER. + + + + + +The letter alluded to in the last chapter ran thus. It was written +from Mr. Newman's house in Madison Avenue, though inclosed in a +business envelope: + +"MASTER HECTOR ROSCOE: I learn that I am indebted to you for the +rescue of my little daughter from imminent peril during my absence +from home yesterday. A friend who witnessed her providential escape +has given me such an account of your bravery in risking your own +life to save that of an unknown child, that I cannot rest till I +have had an opportunity of thanking you in person. You will do me a +favor, if not otherwise engaged, if you will call at my house this +evening, about eight o'clock. Yours gratefully, + +"Titus NEWMAN." + +It is needless to say that Hector read this letter with feelings of +gratification. It is true, as we are often told, that "virtue is its +own reward," but it is, nevertheless, pleasant to feel that our +efforts to do well and serve others are appreciated. + +"No bad news, I hope, Hector?" said Walter. + +"No," answered Hector. "You may read the letter, if you like, Mr. +Ross." + +Mr. Ross did so, and aloud, much to the surprise of everyone at +table. + +"You did not tell me of this," said Walter, in astonishment. + +"No," answered Hector, smiling. + +"But why not?" + +"Because Hector is modest," Mr. Ross answered for him. "Now, if you +had done such a thing, Walter, we should have been sure to hear of +it." + +"I don't know," returned Walter, comically. "You don't know how many +lives I have saved within the last few years." + +"Nor anyone else, I fancy," replied his father. "By the way, Hector, +there is a paragraph about it in the Herald of this morning. I read +it, little suspecting that you were the boy whose name the reporter +was unable to learn." + +Hector read the paragraph in question with excusable pride. It was, +in the main, correct. + +"How old was the little girl?" asked Walter. + +"Four years old, I should think." + +"That isn't quite so romantic as if she had been three times as +old." + +"I couldn't have rescued her quite as easily, in that case." + +Of course, Hector was called upon for an account of the affair, +which he gave plainly, without adding any of those embellishments +which some boys, possibly some of my young readers, might have been +tempted to put in. + +"You are fortunate to have obliged a man like Titus Newman, Hector," +said Mr. Ross. "He is a man of great wealth and influence." + +"Do you know him, papa?" asked Walter. + +"No--that is, not at all well. I have been introduced to him." + +Punctually at eight o'clock Hector ascended the steps of a handsome +residence on Madison Avenue. The door was opened by a colored +servant, of imposing manners. + +"Is Mr. Newman at home?" asked Hector, politely. + +"Yes, sar." + +"Be kind enough to hand him this card?" + +"Yes, sar." + +Presently the servant reappeared, saying: + +"Mr. Newman will see you, sar, in the library. I will induct you +thither." + +"Thank you," answered Hector, secretly amused at the airs put on by +his sable conductor. + +Seated at a table, in a handsomely furnished library, sat a stout +gentleman of kindly aspect. He rose quickly from his armchair and +advanced to meet our hero. + +"I am glad to see you, my young friend," he said. "Sit there," +pointing to a smaller armchair opposite. "So you are the boy who +rescued my dear little girl?" + +His voice softened as he uttered these last few words, and it was +easy to see how strong was the paternal love that swelled his heart. + +"I was fortunate in having the opportunity, Mr. Newman." + +"You have rendered me a service I can never repay. When I think that +but for you the dear child--" his voice faltered. + +"Don't think of it, Mr. Newman," said Hector, earnestly. "I don't +like to think of it myself." + +"And you exposed yourself to great danger, my boy!" + +"I suppose I did, sir; but that did not occur to me at the time. It +was all over in an instant." + +"I see you are modest, and do not care to take too great credit to +yourself, but I shall not rest till I have done something to express +my sense of your noble courage. Now, I am a man of business, and it +is my custom to come to the point directly. Is there any way in +which I can serve you." + +"Yes, sir." + +"I am glad to hear it. Name it." + +"I am looking for a situation in some mercantile establishment, Mr. +Newman." + +"Pardon me, but, judging from your appearance, I should not suppose +that it was a matter of importance to you." + +"Yes, sir; I am poor." + +"You don't look so." + +"You judge from my dress, no doubt"--Hector was attired in a suit +of fine texture--"I suppose I may say," he added, with a smile, +"that I have seen better days." + +"Surely, you are young to have met with reverses, if that is what +you mean to imply," the merchant remarked, observing our hero with +some curiosity. + +"Yes, sir; if you have time, I will explain to you how it happened." + +As the story has already been told, I will not repeat Hector's +words. + +Mr. Newman listened with unaffected interest. + +"It is certainly a curious story," he said. "Did you, then, quietly +surrender your claims to the estate simply upon your uncle's +unsupported assertion?" + +"I beg pardon, sir. He showed me my father's--that is, Mr. +Roscoe's--letter." + +"Call him your father, for I believe he was." + +"Do you, sir?" asked Hector, eagerly. + +"I do. Your uncle's story looks like an invention. Let me think, was +your father's name Edward Roscoe?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"And in what year were you born?" + +"In the year 1856." + +"At Sacramento?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Then I feel quite sure that I made your father's acquaintance in +the succeeding year, and your own as well, though you were an +infant--that is, you were less than a year old." + +"Did my father say anything of having adopted me?" + +"No; on the contrary, he repeatedly referred to you as his child, +and your mother also displayed toward you an affection which would +have been at least unusual if you had not been her own child." + +"Then you think, sir--" Hector began. + +"I think that your uncle's story is a mere fabrication. He has +contrived a snare in which you have allowed yourself to be +enmeshed." + +"I am only a boy, sir. I supposed there was nothing for me to do but +to yield possession of the estate when my uncle showed me the +letter." + +"It was natural enough; and your uncle doubtless reckoned upon your +inexperience and ignorance of the law." + +"What would you advise me to do, sir?" + +"Let me think." + +The merchant leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes, and gave +himself up to reflection. In the midst of his reverie the pompous +servant entered, bringing a letter upon a silver salver. + +"A letter, sar," he said. + +"That will do. You can go, Augustus." + +"Yes, sar." + +Mr. Newman glanced at the postmark, tore open the letter, read it +with a frown, and then, as if he had suddenly formed a resolution, +he said: + +"This letter has helped me to a decision." + +Hector regarded him with surprise. What could the letter have to do +with him? + +"Have you any objection to going out to California by the next +steamer?" asked Mr. New-man. + +"No, sir," answered Hector, with animation "Am I to go alone?" + +"Yes, alone." + + + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII. + +A WAYWARD YOUTH. + + + + + +It is needless to say that Hector was very much surprised, not to +say startled, at this sudden proposal. What could Mr. Newman +possibly want him to go to California for? If on business, how did +it happen that he trusted a mere boy with so responsible a mission? + +The explanation came soon. + +"No doubt, you are surprised," said the merchant, "at the proposal I +have made you. I am not prepared myself to say that I am acting with +good judgment. In making it, I have obeyed a sudden impulse, which +is not always prudent. Yet, in more than one instance, I have found +advantage in obeying such an impulse. But to my explanation. By the +way, let me first ask you two or three questions. Have you any taste +for any kind of liquor?" + +"No, sir," answered Hector, promptly. + +"Even if you had, do you think you would have self-control enough to +avoid entering saloons and gratifying your tastes?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"That is well. Do you play pool?" + +"No, sir," answered Hector, wondering whither all these questions +tended. + +"I ask because playing pool in public rooms paves the way for +intemperance, as bars are generally connected with such +establishments." + +"I don't even know how to play pool, sir," said Hector. + +"Do you ever bet or gamble?" continued the merchant. + +"No, sir." + +"You will understand why I ask all these questions when I tell you +that I have a nephew now nineteen years of age, who does all these +things. He is not only my nephew, but my ward. I have a moderate sum +of money in my charge which belongs to him--enough, if he were a +young man of correct habits, to buy him an interest in a respectable +business. That use I had proposed to make of it when he reached +twenty-one, or rather, to recommend to him, but for his yielding to +temptation in more than one form, and, finally, running away from my +protection." + +"Where is he now, sir?" + +"In California. Three months since he disappeared, and it was some +weeks before I learned where he had gone. As I do not intend to +conceal anything from you, I must tell you that he carried with him +five hundred dollars purloined from my desk. This grieved me most of +all. I wrote out to a mercantile friend in San Francisco, who knows +the boy by sight, to hunt him up, and see if he could do anything +for him. He writes me--this is the letter I hold in my hand--that he +has seen Gregory, and expostulated with him, but apparently without +effect. The boy has pretty much run through his money, and will soon +be in need. I do not intend, however, to send him money, for he +would misuse it. I don't think it will do him any harm to suffer a +little privation, as a fitting punishment for his wayward courses. I +would not wish him to suffer too much, and I am anxious lest he +should go further astray. I now come to the explanation of my +proposal to you. I wish you to go to California, to seek out +Gregory, obtain his confidence, and then persuade him to give up his +bad course, and come home with you, prepared to lead a worthier +life. Are you willing to undertake it?" + +"Yes, sir," answered Hector. "I will undertake it, since you are +willing to place such a responsibility upon me. I will do my best to +accomplish what you desire, but I may fail." + +"In that case I will not blame you," answered the merchant. + +"What sort of a boy is Gregory? Shall I find it difficult to gain +his confidence?" + +"No; he is a youth of very amiable disposition--indeed, he was +generally popular among his companions and associates, but he is +morally weak, and finds it difficult to cope with temptation. I +believe that a boy like you will stand a better chance of +influencing him than a man of mature age." + +"I will do my best, sir." + +"One thing more. You may assure Gregory that I forgive him the theft +of my money, though it gave me great pain to find him capable of +such an act, and that I am prepared to receive him back into my +favor if he will show himself worthy of it. I will give you a letter +to that effect. Now, when will you be ready to start?" + +"By the next steamer." + +"That is well." + + + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII. + +MR. ROSCOE MAKES A DISCOVERY. + + + + + +The California steamer was to start in two days. This gave Hector +but little time for preparation, but then he had but scanty +preparation to make. Mr. Ross and Walter were naturally surprised at +the confidence placed in Hector by a stranger, but were inclined to +think that our hero would prove himself worthy of it. + +"Don't be gone long, Hector," said Walter. "I shall miss you. I +depended upon having your company for a good while yet." + +"Come back to my house, Hector," said Mr. Ross, cordially, "when you +return, whether you are successful or not. Consider it a home where +you are always welcome." + +"Thank you, sir," said Hector, gratefully. "I wish you were my uncle +instead of Mr. Allan Roscoe." + +"By the way, Hector, take time, while you are in California, to go +to Sacramento to see if you can learn anything of your early +history. It is most important to you, and I'm sure Mr. Newman will +not object." + +"He has already suggested it to me," said Hector. "Moreover, he has +given me the name of the minister who baptized me, and, should he be +dead or removed, he has given me the name of another person--a +lady--with whom my father boarded during his residence in +Sacramento." + +"It is to be hoped that one or the other of these persons may still +be living. It will afford me sincere pleasure if, by reliable +testimony, you can defeat the wicked conspiracy into which Mr. +Roscoe has entered, with the object of defrauding you of your +inheritance." + +Hector's ticket was purchased by Mr. Newman, and he was provided +with a considerable sum of money as well as an order upon a bank in +San Francisco for as much more as he might need. + +"You are trusting me to an unusual extent, Mr. Newman," said Hector. + +"That is true, but I have no hesitation in doing so. I am a close +observer, and, though I have seen but little of you, I have seen +enough to inspire me with confidence." + +"I hope I shall deserve it, sir." + +"That depends upon yourself, so far as integrity and fidelity go. +Whether you succeed or not in your undertaking depends partly upon +circumstances." + +My young readers may wonder how Hector would be expected to +recognize a young man whom he had never seen. He was provided with a +photograph of Gregory, which had been taken but six months before, +and which, as Mr. Newman assured him, bore a strong resemblance to +his nephew. + +"He may have changed his name," he said, "but he cannot change his +face. With this picture you will be able to identify him." + +The great steamer started on her long voyage. Walter and Mr. Crabb +stood on the pier and watched it till Hector's face was no longer +distinguishable for the distance, and then went home, each feeling +that he had sustained a loss. + +Among those who watched the departure of the steamer was a person +who escaped Hector's notice, for he arrived just too late to bid +good-by to an acquaintance who was a passenger on board. + +This person was no other than Allan Roscoe. + +When he recognized Hector's face among the passengers he started in +surprise and alarm. + +"Hector Roscoe going to California!" he inwardly ejaculated. "What +can be his object, and where did he raise money to go?" + +Conscience whispered: "He has gone to ferret out the fraud which you +have practiced upon him, and his mission is fraught with peril to +you." + +Allan Roscoe returned to his elegant home in a state of nervous +agitation, which effectually prevented him from enjoying the +luxuries he was now able to command. A sword seemed suspended over +him, but he resolved not to give up the large stake for which he +played so recklessly without a further effort. + +By the next mail he wrote a confidential letter to an old +acqaintance in San Francisco. + + + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV. + +FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF SAN FRANCISCO. + + + + + +Hector was seasick for the first twenty-four hours, but at the end +of that time he had become accustomed to the rise and fall of the +billows, and was prepared to enjoy himself as well as he could in +the confined quarters of an ocean steamer. + +Of course, he made acquaintances. Among them was a clergyman, of +middle age, who was attracted by our hero's frank countenance. They +met on deck, and took together the "constitutional" which travelers +on shipboard find essential for their health. + +"You seem to be alone?" said the clergyman. + +"Yes, sir." + +"Pardon me, but it is uncommon to meet one so young as yourself who +is making so long a journey. I suppose, however, you have friends or +relatives in California." + +"No, sir; I know no one, to my knowledge, in the Golden State." + +"Then, perhaps, you go out in search of employment?" + +"No, sir; I go out on business." + +"You are a young business man," said the clergyman, smiling. + +"Perhaps I should rather say, on a mission. I am sent out, by a New +York merchant, in search of his nephew, who is somewhere in San +Francisco." + +Hector explained himself further. The minister, Mr. Richards, +listened with attention. + +"Certainly," he said, "a great responsibility rests upon you. Mr. +Newman must have great confidence in you." + +"I hope he will not find it misplaced," answered Hector, modestly. + +"It is certainly a compliment to you that a shrewd business man +should consider you worthy of such confidence. The presumption is +that he has good reason for his confidence. I think, my young +friend, that you will enjoy your visit to our State." + +"Then you reside there, sir?" + +"Oh, yes. I went out twenty years since; in fact, just after I +graduated from the theological school. I spent a year at the mines; +but, at the end of that time, finding an opening in my profession, I +accepted the charge of a church in Sacramento." + +"In Sacramento?" exclaimed Hector, eagerly. + +"Yes. Have you any associations with that city?" + +"It is my birthplace, sir." + +"Then you are not a stranger to California?" + +"Yes, sir; I came away so early that I have no recollection of the +place." + +"What is your name?" asked the clergyman. + +"Hector Roscoe." + +"Roscoe? The name sounds familiar to me," said the minister, +thoughtfully. + +"How long since you went to Sacramento, Mr. Richards?" + +"I went there in 1855." + +"And I was born there in 1856. My father and mother lived there for +some time afterwards." + +"It is probable that I met them, for Sacramento was a small place +then. Shall you go there?" + +"Yes, sir. I have a special reason for going--a reason most +important to me." + +As Mr. Richards naturally looked inquisitive, Hector confided in him +further. + +"You see, sir," he concluded, "that it is most important to me to +ascertain whether I am really the son of the man whom I have always +regarded as my father. If so, I am heir to a large fortune. If not, +my uncle is the heir, and I certainly should not wish to disturb him +in the enjoyment of what the law awards him." + +"That is quite proper," said Mr. Richards. "In your investigation, +it is quite possible that I may be able to help you materially, +through my long residence and extensive acquaintance in Sacramento. +When you come there, lose no time in calling upon me. Whatever help +I can render you shall cheerfully be given." + +"Thank you, sir." + +"Shall you be much disappointed if you find that you are only the +adopted, instead of the real, son of Mr. Roscoe?" + +"Yes, sir; but it won't be chiefly on account of the property. I +shall feel alone in the world, without relations or family +connections, with no one to sympathize with me in my successes, or +feel for me in my disappointments." + +"I understand you, and I can enter into your feelings." + +Arrived in San Francisco, Hector took lodgings at a comfortable +hotel on Kearney Street. He didn't go to the Palace Hotel, or +Baldwin's, though Mr. Newman had supplied him with ample funds, and +instructed him to spend whatever he thought might be necessary. + +"I mean to show myself worthy of his confidence," said Hector to +himself. + +He arrived in the evening, and was glad to remain quietly at the +hotel the first evening, and sleep off the effects of his voyage. +After the contracted stateroom, in which he had passed over twenty +days, he enjoyed the comfort and luxury of a bed on shore and a +good-sized bedroom. But, in the morning, he took a long walk, which +was full of interest. Less than five minutes' walk from his hotel +was the noted Chinese quarter. Curiously enough, it is located in +the central part of the business portion of San Francisco. Set a +stranger down in this portion of the city, and the traveler finds it +easy to imagine himself in some Chinese city. All around him, +thronging the sidewalks, he will see almond-eyed men, wearing long +queues, and clad in the comfortable, but certainly not elegant, +flowing garments which we meet only occasionally in our Eastern +cities, on the person of some laundryman. Then the houses, too, with +the curious names on the signs, speak of a far-off land. On every +side, also, is heard the uncouth jargon of the Chinese tongue. + +There is a part of San Francisco that is known as the Barbary Coast. +It is that part which strangers will do well to avoid, for it is the +haunt of the worst portion of the population. Here floats many a +hopeless wreck, in the shape of a young man, who has yielded to the +seductions of drink and the gaming table--who has lost all hope and +ambition, and is fast nearing destruction. + +If Hector allowed himself to explore this quarter, it was not +because he found anything to attract him, for his tastes were +healthy, but he thought, from the description of Gregory Newman, +that he would stand a better chance of meeting him here than in a +more respectable quarter. + +Hector halted in front of a building, which he judged to be a +gambling house. He did not care to enter, but he watched, with +curiosity, those who entered and those who came out. + +As he was standing there, a man of forty touched him on the +shoulder. + +Hector turned, and was by no means attracted by the man's +countenance. He was evidently a confirmed inebriate, though not at +that time under the influence of liquor. There was an expression of +cunning, which repelled Hector, and he drew back. + +"I say, boy," said the stranger, "do you want to go in?" + +"No, sir." + +"If you do, I know the ropes, and I'll introduce you and take care +of you." + +"Thank you," said Hector, "but I don't care to go in." + +"Are you afraid?" asked the man, with a slight sneer. + +"Yes. Haven't I a reason?" + +"Come, sonny, don't be foolish. Have you any money?" + +"A little." + +"Give it to me and I'll play for you. I'll double it in ten minutes, +and I'll only ask you five dollars for my services." + +"Suppose you lose?" + +"I won't lose," said the man, confidently. "Come," he said, in a +wheedling tone, "let me make some money for you." + +"Thank you, but I would rather not. I don't want to make money in +any such way." + +"You're a fool!" said the man, roughly, and with an air of disgust +he left the spot, much to Hector's relief. + +Still Hector lingered, expecting he hardly knew what, but it chanced +that fortune favored him. He was just about to turn away, when a +youth, two or three years older than himself in appearance, came out +of the gambling house. He was pale, and looked as if he had kept +late hours. He had the appearance, also, of one who indulges in +drink. + +When Hector's glance fell upon the face of the youth, he started in +great excitement. + +"Surely," he thought, "that must be Gregory Newman!" + + + + + + +CHAPTER XXXV. + +THE PRODIGAL. + + + + + +As the best way of getting into communication with the youth whom he +suspected to be the object of his search, Hector asked him the name +of the street. + +On receiving an answer, he said, in an explanatory way: + +"I am a stranger here. I only arrived on the last steamer." + +The other looked interested. + +"Where do you come from?" + +"From New York." + +"I used to live there," said Gregory--for it was he--with a sigh. + +"Have you bettered yourself by coming out here?" asked Hector. + +Gregory shook his head. + +"No," he said; "I begin to think I was a fool to come at all." + +"Perhaps you had poor prospects in New York?" said Hector. + +"No; my uncle is a rich merchant there. I have some property, also, +and he is my guardian." + +"Did he favor your coming?" + +"No; he was very much opposed to it." + +"Perhaps I ought not to take such a liberty, but I begin to agree +with you about your being a fool to leave such prospects behind +you." + +"Oh, I am not offended. It is true enough." + +"I suppose you haven't prospered, then," said Hector. + +"Prospered? Look at me! Do you see how shabby I am?" + +Gregory certainly did look shabby. His clothes were soiled and +frayed, and he had the appearance of a young tramp. + +"That isn't the worst of it," he added, bitterly. "I have spent my +last cent, and am penniless." + +"That is bad, certainly. Did you lose any of it in there?" said +Hector, indicating the gaming house. + +"I have lost full half of it there," answered Gregory. "This morning +I found myself reduced to four bits--" + +"To what?" inquired Hector, puzzled. + +"Oh, I forgot you had just arrived. Four bits is fifty cents. Well, +I was reduced to that, and, instead of saving it for my dinner, I +went in there and risked it. If I had been lucky, I might have +raised it to ten dollars, as a man next to me did; but I'm out of +luck, and I don't know what to do." + +"Why don't you go back to your uncle in New York?" + +"What! and walk all the way without food?" said Gregory, bitterly. + +"Of course you couldn't go without money. Suppose you had the money, +would you go?" + +"I should be afraid to try it," said Gregory, smiling. + +"Why? Don't you think he would receive you back?" + +"He might but for one thing," answered Gregory. + +"What is that?" + +"I may as well tell you, though I am ashamed to," said Gregory, +reluctantly. "I left New York without his knowledge, and, as I knew +he wouldn't advance me money out of my own property, I took five +hundred dollars from his desk." + +"That was bad," said Hector, quietly, but he didn't look shocked or +terror-stricken, for this would probably have prevented any further +confidence. + +"It wasn't exactly stealing," said Gregory, apologetically, "for I +knew he could keep back the money from my property. Still, he could +represent it as such and have me arrested." + +"I don't think he would do that." + +"I don't want to run the risk. You see now why I don't dare to go +back to New York. But what on earth I am to do here I don't know." + +"Couldn't you get employment?" asked Hector, for he wished Gregory +to understand his position fully. + +"What! in this shabby suit? Respectable business men would take me +for a hoodlum." + +Hector knew already that a "hoodlum" in San Francisco parlance is a +term applied to street loafers from fifteen to twenty-five years of +age, who are disinclined to work and have a premature experience of +vice. + +"Suppose you were assured that your uncle would receive you back and +give you another chance?" + +Gregory shook his head. + +"I don't believe he would, and I am afraid I don't deserve it. No, I +must try to get to the mines in some way. How are you fixed?" said +Gregory, turning suddenly to Hector. "Could you spare a five-dollar +gold piece for a chap that's been unfortunate?" + +"Perhaps I might; but I am afraid you would go back into the +gambling house and lose it, as you did your other money." + +"No, I won't; I promise you that. Four bits was nothing. Five +dollars would give me a chance of going somewhere where I could earn +a living." + +Gregory seemed to speak sincerely, and Hector thought it would do +him no harm to reveal himself and his errand. + +"Your name is Gregory Newman, isn't it?" he inquired. + +Gregory stared at him in uncontrollable amazement. + +"How do you know that?" he inquired. + +"And your uncle's name is Titus Newman?" + +"Yes, but--" + +"He lives on Madison Avenue, does he not?" + +"Yes, yes; but who are you that seem to know so much about me?" + +"My name is Hector Roscoe." + +"Did I know you in New York?" + +"No; I never met you, to my knowledge." + +"Then how do you recognize me and know my name?" + +In answer, Hector took from his pocket a photograph of Gregory and +displayed it. + +"How did you come by that?" asked Gregory, hurriedly. "Are you a +detective?" + +Gregory looked so startled that Hector had hard work not to laugh. +It seemed ludicrous to him that he should be supposed to be a +detective on Gregory's track, as the boy evidently suspected. + +"No," he answered, "I am not a detective, but a friend. I have come +out to San Francisco especially to find you." + +"You won't inform against me?" asked Gregory, nervously. + +"Not at all. I come as a friend, with a message from your uncle---" + +"What is it?" asked Gregory, eagerly. + +"He wants you to come back to New York, and he will give you another +chance." + +"Is this true?" + +"Yes; will you come?" + +"I shall be glad to leave San Francisco," said Gregory, fervently. +"I have had no luck since I arrived here." + +"Do you think you deserved any?" said Hector, significantly. + +"No, perhaps not," Gregory admitted. + +"When will you be ready to return?" + +"You forget that I have no money." + +"I have, and will pay your passage." + +Gregory grasped the hands of our hero gratefully. + +"You are a trump!" said he. + +Then he looked at his wretched and dilapidated suit. + +"I don't like to go home like this," he said. "I should be mortified +if I met my uncle or any of my old acquaintances." + +"Oh, that can be remedied," said Hector. "If you can lead the way to +a good clothing house, where the prices are moderate, I will soon +improve your appearance." + +"That I will!" answered Gregory, gladly. + +Within five minutes' walk was a good clothing house, on Kearney +Street. The two entered, and a suit was soon found to fit Gregory. +Then they obtained a supply of underclothing, and Gregory breathed a +sigh of satisfaction. His self-respect returned, and he felt once +more like his old self. + +"Now," said Hector, "I shall take you to my hotel, and enter your +name as a guest. You and I can room together." + +"Do you know," said Gregory, "I almost fear this is a dream, and +that I shall wake up again a tramp, as you found me half an hour +ago? I was almost in despair when you met me." + +Though Gregory seemed quite in earnest in his desire to turn over a +new leaf, Hector thought it prudent to keep the funds necessary for +their journey in his own possession. He gave a few dollars to +Gregory as spending money, but disregarded any hints looking to a +further advance. + + + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI. + +HOW HECTOR SUCCEEDED IN SACRAMENTO. + + + + + +Now that Hector had succeeded in the main object of his journey, he +had time to think of his own affairs. It was most important for him +to visit Sacramento and make inquiries into the matter that so +nearly concerned him. + +"I must find out," he said to himself, "whether I am entitled to the +name I bear, or whether I only received it by adoption." + +The second day after his discovery of Gregory Newman, he said to +him: + +"Gregory, business of importance calls me to Sacramento. Do you wish +to go with me?" + +"Does the business in any way relate to me?" asked Gregory. + +"Not at all." + +"Then I prefer to remain in San Francisco." + +"Can I trust you not to fall back into your old ways?" asked Hector. + +"Yes; I have had enough of them," answered Gregory, and there was a +sincerity in his tone which convinced Hector that he might safely +leave him. + +"I shall probably stay overnight," he said. "If I stay any longer, I +will telegraph to you." + +Arrived in Sacramento, Hector sought out the residence of the Rev. +Mr. Richards, whose acquaintance he had made on board the steamer. + +His clerical friend received him with evident pleasure. + +"How have you fared, my young friend?" he asked. + +"Very well, sir. I have succeeded in my mission." + +"Then you have found the youth you were in search of?" + +"Yes, sir; moreover, I have induced him to return home with me, and +turn over a new leaf." + +"That is indeed good news. And now, I think I have also good news +for you." + +"Please let me know it, sir," said Hector, eagerly. + +"I have found the lady with whom your father and mother boarded +while they were in Sacramento." + +"What does she say?" + +"She says," answered Mr. Richards, promptly, "that you are Mr. +Roscoe's own son, and were born in her house." + +"Thank Heaven!" ejaculated Hector. + +"Nor is this all. I have found the minister who baptized you. He is +still living, at a very advanced age--the Rev. Mr. Barnard. I called +upon him, and recalled his attention to the period when your father +lived in the city. I found that he remembered both your parents very +well. Not only that, but he has a very full diary covering that +time, in which he showed me this record: + +"'Baptized, June 17th, Hector, the son of Thomas and Martha Roscoe; +a bright, healthy child, in whom the parents much delight." + +"Then it seems to me," said Hector, "that my case is a very strong +one." + +"Unusually so. In fact, it could not be stronger. I marvel how Allan +Roscoe, your uncle, could have ventured upon a fraud which could be +so easily proved to be such." + +"He depended upon Sacramento being so far away," said Hector. "He +thought I would accept my father's letter without question." + +"That letter was undoubtedly forged," said the minister. + +"It must have been, but it was very cleverly forged. The handwriting +was a very close copy of my father's." It was a great pleasure to +Hector that he could say "my father" without a moment's doubt that +he was entitled to say so. + +"He thought, also, that you would not have the means to come here to +investigate for yourself," said Mr. Richards. + +"Yes, and he would have been right but for the commission Mr. Newman +gave me. What course would you advise me to take," asked Hector, a +little later, "to substantiate my claim?" + +"Get Mrs. Blodgett's and Rev. Mr. Barnard's sworn affidavits, and +place them in the hands of a reliable lawyer, requesting him to +communicate with your uncle." + +This advice seemed to Hector to be wise, and he followed it. +Fortunately, he had no difficulty in inducing both parties to accede +to his request. The next day he returned to San Francisco. + + + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVII. + +A NARROW ESCAPE. + + + + + +Armed with the affidavits which were to restore to him the position +in life of which his uncle had wickedly deprived him, Hector +returned to San Francisco. He found Gregory unaffectedly glad to see +him. + +"Glad to see you back, Hector," he said; "I missed you." + +Hector was glad to find that Gregory had not taken advantage of his +absence to indulge in any of his old excesses. He began to hope that +he had already turned over the new leaf which was so desirable. + +"I know what you are thinking of," said Gregory, after Hector had +returned his salutation. "You are wondering whether I 'cut up' any +while you were gone." + +"You don't look as if you had," said Hector, smiling. + +"No; I have had enough of sowing wild oats. It doesn't pay. Shall I +tell you what I did last evening?" + +"If you like." + +"I attended a lecture illustrated with the stereopticon. I was in +bed at ten." + +"Gregory," said Hector, taking his hand, "you don't know how glad I +am to hear this. I am sure your uncle will be delighted when you +return to him so changed." + +"I've made a great fool of myself," said Gregory, candidly. +"Hereafter I am going to make you my model." + +Hector blushed deeply, for he was a modest boy. + +"You compliment me too much, Gregory," he said. "Still, if you are +in earnest, I will try to set you a good example." + +"You won't have any trouble in doing that. You are one of the +fellows that find it easy to be good." + +"I am not sure of that, Gregory. Still, I mean to do my best." + +In the evening the two boys attended a theatrical performance. It +was not till after eleven o'clock that they emerged from the +theatre, and slowly, not by the most direct way, sauntered home. + +There was no thought of danger in the mind of either, yet, as a +fact, Hector had never in his life been exposed to peril so serious +as that evening. Lurking behind in the shadow a shabby-looking man +followed the two boys, keeping his eyes steadily on Hector. At a +place specially favorable, our hero was startled by hearing a bullet +whiz by his ear. He turned instantly, and so did Gregory. They saw a +man running, and they pursued him. They might not have caught up +with him, but that he stumbled and fell. Instantly they were upon +him. + +"Well," he said, sullenly, "you've caught me after all." + +"Were you the man who fired at me?" asked Hector, "or was it my +friend here you sought to kill?" + +"I was firing at you," answered their captive, coolly. "Now, what +are you going to do with me?" + +"Was this forced upon you by want? Did you wish to rob me?" + +"No; I had another motive." + +"What was it?" + +"If I tell you, will you let me go free?" + +Hector hesitated. + +The man proceeded, speaking with emphasis. + +"If I tell you who put me up to this, and furnish you proofs so that +you can bring it to him, will you let me go?" + +"You will not renew the attempt?" asked Hector. + +"No," answered the man; "it isn't likely; I shall have no further +motive." + +"Yes, I agree." + +"Read that letter, then." + +"There isn't light enough. Will you accompany me to the hotel, where +I can read it?" + +"I will." + +The three walked together to the hotel, where Hector and Gregory +were staying. There Hector read the letter. He was astonished and +horrified when he discovered that it was from his uncle to this man, +with whom he seemed to have an acquaintance, describing Hector, and +promising him a thousand dollars if he would put him out of the way. + +"This is very important," said Hector, gravely. "Are you ready to +accompany me to New York and swear to this?" + +"Yes, if you will pay my expenses." + +By the next steamer Hector, Gregory and the stranger, who called +himself Reuben Pearce, sailed for New York. + + + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVIII. + +CONCLUSION. + + + + + +Allan Roscoe sat at the breakfast table with Guy opposite him. +Though Mr. Roscoe was not altogether free from anxiety since he had +learned of Hector's expedition to California, he had taught himself +to believe that there was little chance of the boy's ferreting out +the imposition he had practiced upon him. He had been a poor and +struggling man most of his life, having, when quite a young man, +squandered his inheritance, and his present taste of affluence was +most agreeable. He felt that he could not part with Castle Roscoe. + +"But I am safe enough," he said to himself; "even if Hector +discovered anything, something might happen to him, so that he might +be unable to return." + +"Father," said Guy, who had just dispatched an egg, "I want ten +dollars this morning." + +"Ten dollars!" said his father, frowning. "How is this? Did I not +give you your week's allowance two days since?" + +"Well, I've spent it," answered Guy, "and I need some more." + +"You must think I am made of money," said his father, displeased. + +"It's pretty much so," said Guy, nonchalantly. "Your income must be +ten thousand a year." + +"I have a great many expenses. How have you spent your allowance?" + +"Oh, I can't tell exactly. It's gone, at any rate. You mustn't +become mean, father." + +"Mean! Don't I give you a handsome allowance? Look here, Guy, I +can't allow such extravagance on your part. This once I'll give you +five dollars, but hereafter, you must keep within your allowance." + +"Can't you make it ten?" + +"No, I can't," said his father, shortly. + +Guy rose from the table, and left the room, whistling. + +"The old man's getting mean," he said. "If he doesn't allow me more, +I shall have to get in debt." + +As Guy left the room, the mail was brought in. On one of the +envelopes, Mr. Roscoe saw the name of his lawyer. He did not think +much of it, supposing it related to some minor matter of business. +The letter ran thus: + +"ALLAN ROSCOE, ESQ.: + +"DEAR SIR: Be kind enough to come up to the city at once. Business +of great importance demands your attention. + +"Yours respectfully, TIMOTHY TAPE." + +"Mr. Tape is unusually mysterious," said Allan Roscoe to himself, +shrugging his shoulders. "I will go up to-day. I have nothing to +keep me at home." + +Mr. Roscoe ordered the carriage, and drove to the depot. Guy, +noticing his departure, asked permission to accompany him. + +"Not to-day, Guy," he answered. "I am merely going up to see my +lawyer." + +Two hours later Mr. Roscoe entered the office of his lawyer. + +"Well, Tape, what's up?" he asked, in an easy tone. "Your letter was +mysterious." + +"I didn't like to write explicitly," said Mr. Tape, gravely. + +"The matter, you say, is of great importance?" + +"It is, indeed! It is no less than a claim for the whole of your +late brother's estate." + +"Who is the claimant?" asked Allan Roscoe, perturbed. + +"Your nephew, Hector." + +"I have no nephew Hector. The boy called Hector Roscoe is an adopted +son of my brother." + +"I know you so stated. He says he is prepared to prove that he is +the lawful son of the late Mr. Roscoe." + +"He can't prove it!" said Allan Roscoe, turning pale. + +"He has brought positive proof from California, so he says." + +"Has he, then, returned?" asked Allan, his heart sinking. + +"He is in the city, and expects us to meet him at two o'clock this +afternoon, at the office of his lawyer, Mr. Parchment." + +Now, Mr. Parchment was one of the most celebrated lawyers at the New +York bar, and the fact that Hector had secured his services showed +Allan Roscoe that the matter was indeed serious. + +"How could he afford to retain so eminent a lawyer?" asked Allan +Roscoe, nervously. + +"Titus Newman, the millionaire merchant, backs him." + +"Do you think there is anything in his case?" asked Allan, slowly. + +"I can tell better after our interview at two o'clock." + +At five minutes to two Allan Roscoe and Mr. Tape were ushered into +the private office of Mr. Parchment. + +"Glad to see you, gentlemen," said the great lawyer, with his usual +courtesy. + +Two minutes later Hector entered, accompanied by Mr. Newman. Hector +nodded coldly to his uncle. He was not of a vindictive nature, but +he could not forget that this man, his own near relative, had not +only deprived him of his property, but conspired against his life. + +"Hector," said Allan Roscoe, assuming a confidence he did not feel, +"I am amazed at your preposterous claim upon the property my brother +left to me. This is a poor return for his kindness to one who had no +claim upon him." + +"Mr. Parchment will speak for me," said Hector, briefly. + +"My young client," said the great lawyer, "claims to be the son of +the deceased Mr. Roscoe, and, of course, in that capacity, succeeds +to his father's estate." + +"It is one thing to make the claim, and another to substantiate it," +sneered Allan Roscoe. + +"Precisely so, Mr. Roscoe," said Mr. Parchment. "We quite agree with +you. Shall I tell you and your learned counsel what we are prepared +to prove?" + +Mr. Roscoe nodded uneasily. + +"We have the affidavits of the lady with whom your brother boarded +in Sacramento, and in whose house my young client was born. We have, +furthermore, the sworn testimony of the clergyman, still living, who +baptized him, and we can show, though it is needless, in the face of +such strong proof, that he was always spoken of in his infancy by +Mr. and Mrs. Roscoe as their child." + +"And I have my brother's letter stating that he was only adopted," +asserted Allan Roscoe. + +"Even that, admitting it to be genuine," said Mr. Parchment, "cannot +disprove the evidence I have already alluded to. If you insist upon +it, however, we will submit the letter to an expert, and--" + +"This is a conspiracy. I won't give up the estate," said Allan, +passionately. + +"We also claim that there is a conspiracy," said Mr. Parchment, +smoothly, "and there is one circumstance that will go far to confirm +it." + +"What is that?" demanded Allan Roscoe. + +"It is the attempt made upon my young client's life in San Francisco +by an agent of yours, Mr. Roscoe." + +"It is a lie!" said Allan, hoarsely, shaking, nevertheless, with +fear. + +At a sign from Mr. Parchment, Hector opened the door of the office +to give admission to Reuben Pearce. + +At a sight of this man Allan Roscoe utterly collapsed. He felt that +all was lost! + +"Gentlemen," he said, "I will give up the estate, but for Heaven's +sake, don't prosecute me for this!" + +There was an informal conference, in which it was agreed that Allan +Roscoe should make no resistance to Hector's claim, but restore the +estate to him. Hector promised, though this was against his lawyer's +advice, to give his uncle, who would be left penniless, the sum of +two thousand dollars in cash, and an allowance of a hundred dollars +per month for his life. He appointed Mr. Newman his guardian, being +a minor, and was once more a boy of fortune. He resolved to continue +his studies, and in due time go to college, thus preparing himself +for the high position he would hereafter hold. + +As for Allan Roscoe, he and his son, Guy, lost no time in leaving +the neighborhood. Guy was intensely mortified at this turn of the +wheel, which had again brought his cousin uppermost, and was quite +ready to accompany his father to Chicago, where they are living at +present. But he had formed extravagant tastes, and has been a source +of trouble and solicitude to his father, who, indeed, hardly +deserves the comfort of a good son. + +Hector lost no time, after being restored to his old position, in +re-engaging Larry Deane's father, who had been discharged by his +uncle. + +He paid him his usual wages for all the time he had been out of +place, and considerably raised his pay for the future. + +"Larry shall never want a friend as long as I live," he assured Mr. +Deane. "He was a friend to me when I needed one, and I will take +care to give him a good start in life." He redeemed this promise by +securing Larry a place in Mr. Newman's employ, and voluntarily +allowed him as large a weekly sum as the merchant paid him in +addition, so that Larry could live comfortably in the city. I am +glad to say that Larry has shown himself deserving of this kindness, +and has already been promoted to an important and better paid +position. + +A word about Smith Institute. It never recovered from the blow that +it had received at the time when Hector found himself forced to +leave it. One after another the pupils left, and Mr. Smith felt that +his race as a schoolmaster was run. He advertised the institute for +sale, and who do you think bought it? Who but Hector Roscoe, who +probably paid more for it than anyone else would. + +My readers will hardly suppose that he wanted it for himself. In a +cordial letter he presented it to Mr. Crabb, the late usher, when he +had finished his engagement with Walter Boss, and the name was +changed to "Crabb Institute." It was not long before it regained its +old patronage, for Mr. Crabb was not only a good scholar, but was +fair and just to the pupils, ruling them rather by love than fear. +He has married the daughter of a neighboring clergyman, who is a +judicious helper and contributes to the success of the school. + +As for Jim Smith, the last heard of him was to this effect: He had +strayed out to St. Louis, and, after a few months of vicissitude, +had secured the position of bartender in a low liquor saloon. He has +very little chance of rising higher. The young tyrant of Smith +Institute has not done very well for himself, but he has himself to +blame for it. + +To return to Hector. I think we are justified in predicting for him +a prosperous future. He behaved well in adversity. He is not likely +to be spoiled by prosperity, but promises to grow up a good and +manly man, who will seek to do good as he goes along, and so +vindicate his claim to the exceptional good fortune which he enjoys. + +THE END. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Hector's Inheritance, by Horatio Alger + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HECTOR'S INHERITANCE *** + +This file should be named hctnh10.txt or hctnh10.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, hctnh11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, hctnh10a.txt + +Produced by Carrie Fellman + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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