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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Helping Himself, 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: Helping Himself
+
+Author: Horatio Alger
+
+Release Date: June, 2004 [EBook #5833]
+Last Updated: March 3, 2018
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HELPING HIMSELF ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Carrie Fellman
+
+
+
+
+
+
+HELPING HIMSELF
+
+Or
+
+Grant Thornton's Ambition
+
+By Horatio Alger, Jr.
+
+New York
+
+
+
+HELPING HIMSELF
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I -- THE MINISTER'S SON
+
+
+“I wish we were not so terribly poor, Grant,” said Mrs. Thornton, in
+a discouraged tone.
+
+“Is there anything new that makes you say so, mother?” answered the
+boy of fifteen, whom she addressed.
+
+“Nothing new, only the same old trouble. Here is a note from Mr.
+Tudor, the storekeeper.”
+
+“Let me see it, mother.”
+
+Grant took a yellow envelope from his mother's hand, and drew out
+the inclosure, a half sheet of coarse letter paper, which contained
+the following lines:
+
+“July 7, 1857.
+
+REV. JOHN THORNTON:
+
+DEAR SIR: Inclosed you will find a bill for groceries and other
+goods furnished to you in the last six months, amounting to
+sixty-seven dollars and thirty-four cents ($67.34). It ought to have
+been paid before. How you, a minister of the Gospel, can justify
+yourself in using goods which you don't pay for, I can't understand.
+If I remember rightly, the Bible says: 'Owe no man anything.' As I
+suppose you recognize the Bible as an authority, I expect you to pay
+up promptly, and oblige,
+
+Yours respectfully, THOMAS TUDOR.”
+
+Grant looked vexed and indignant. “I think that is an impudent
+letter, mother,” he said.
+
+“It is right that the man should have his money, Grant.”
+
+“That is true, but he might have asked for it civilly, without
+taunting my poor father with his inability to pay. He would pay if
+he could.”
+
+“Heaven knows he would, Grant,” said his mother, sighing.
+
+“I would like to give Mr. Tudor a piece of my mind.” “I would rather
+pay his bill. No, Grant, though he is neither kind nor considerate,
+we must admit that his claim is a just one. If I only knew where to
+turn for money!”
+
+“Have you shown the bill to father?” asked Grant.
+
+“No; you know how unpractical your father is. It would only annoy
+and make him anxious, and he would not know what to do. Your poor
+father has no business faculty.”
+
+“He is a very learned man,” said Grant, proudly.
+
+“Yes, he graduated very high at college, and is widely respected by
+his fellow ministers, but he has no aptitude for business.”
+
+“You have, mother. If you had been a man, you would have done better
+than he. Without your good management we should have been a good
+deal worse off than we are. It is the only thing that has kept our
+heads above water.”
+
+“I am glad you think so, Grant. I have done the best I could, but no
+management will pay bills without money.”
+
+It was quite true that the minister's wife was a woman of excellent
+practical sense, who had known how to make his small salary go very
+far. In this respect she differed widely from her learned husband,
+who in matters of business was scarcely more than a child. But, as
+she intimated with truth, there was something better than
+management, and that was ready cash.
+
+“To support a family on six hundred dollars a year is very hard,
+Grant, when there are three children,” resumed his mother.
+
+“I can't understand why a man like father can't command a better
+salary,” said Grant. “There's Rev. Mr. Stentor, in Waverley, gets
+fifteen hundred dollars salary, and I am sure he can't compare
+with father in ability.”
+
+“True, Grant, but your father is modest, and not given to blowing
+his own trumpet, while Mr. Stentor, from all I can hear, has a very
+high opinion of himself.”
+
+“He has a loud voice, and thrashes round in his pulpit, as if he
+were a--prophet,” said Grant, not quite knowing how to finish his
+sentence.
+
+“Your father never was a man to push himself forward. He is very
+modest.”
+
+“I suppose that is not the only bill that we owe,” said Grant.
+
+“No; our unpaid bills must amount to at least two hundred dollars
+more,” answered his mother.
+
+Grant whistled.
+
+Two hundred and sixty-seven dollars seemed to him an immense sum,
+and so it was, to a poor minister with a family of three children
+and a salary of only six hundred dollars. Where to obtain so large a
+sum neither Grant nor his mother could possibly imagine. Even if
+there were anyone to borrow it from, there seemed no chance to pay
+back so considerable a sum.
+
+Mother and son looked at each other in perplexity. Finally, Grant
+broke the silence.
+
+“Mother,” he said, “one thing seems pretty clear. I must go to work.
+I am fifteen, well and strong, and I ought to be earning my own
+living.”
+
+“But your father has set his heart upon your going to college,
+Grant.”
+
+“And I should like to go, too; but if I did it would be years before
+I could be anything but an expense and a burden, and that would make
+me unhappy.”
+
+“You are almost ready for college, Grant, are you not?”
+
+“Very nearly. I could get ready for the September examination. I
+have only to review Homer, and brush up my Latin.”
+
+“And your uncle Godfrey is ready to help you through.”
+
+“That gives me an idea, mother. It would cost Uncle Godfrey as much
+as nine hundred dollars a year over and above all the help I could
+get from the college funds, and perhaps from teaching school this
+winter. Now, if he would allow me that sum for a single year and let
+me go to work, I could pay up all father's debts, and give him a new
+start. It would save Uncle Godfrey nine hundred dollars.”
+
+“He has set his heart on your going to college. I don't think he
+would agree to help you at all if you disappoint him.”
+
+“At any rate, I could try the experiment. Something has got to be
+done, mother.”
+
+“Yes, Grant, there is no doubt of that. Mr. Tudor is evidently in
+earnest. If we don't pay him, I think it very likely he will refuse
+to let us have anything more on credit. And you know there is no
+other grocery store in the village.”
+
+“Have you any money to pay him on account, mother?”
+
+“I have eight dollars.”
+
+“Let me have that, and go over and see what I can do with him. We
+can't get along without groceries. By the way, mother, doesn't the
+parish owe father anything?”
+
+“They are about sixty dollars in arrears on the salary.”
+
+“And the treasurer is Deacon Gridley?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Then I'll tell you what I will do. I'll first go over to the
+deacon's and try to collect something. Afterward I will call on Mr.
+Tudor.”
+
+“It is your father's place to do it, but he has no business faculty,
+and could not accomplish anything. Go, then, Grant, but remember one
+thing.”
+
+“What is that, mother?”
+
+“You have a quick temper, my son. Don't allow yourself to speak
+hastily, or disrespectfully, even if you are disappointed. Mr.
+Tudor's bill is a just one, and he ought to have his money.”
+
+“I'll do the best I can, mother.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II -- GRANT MAKES TWO BUSINESS CALLS
+
+
+
+Deacon Gridley had a small farm, and farming was his chief
+occupation, but he had a few thousand dollars laid away in stocks
+and bonds, and, being a thrifty man, not to say mean, he managed to
+save up nearly all the interest, which he added to his original
+accumulation. He always coveted financial trusts, and so it came
+about that he was parish treasurer. It was often convenient for him
+to keep in his hands, for a month at a time, money thus collected
+which ought to have been paid over at once to the minister, but the
+deacon was a thoroughly selfish man, and cared little how pressed
+for money Mr. Thornton might be, as long as he himself derived some
+benefit from holding on to the parish funds.
+
+The deacon was mowing the front yard of his house when Grant came up
+to his front gate.
+
+“Good-morning, Deacon Gridley,” said the minister's son.
+
+“Mornin', Grant,” answered the deacon. “How's your folks?”
+
+“Pretty well in health,” returned Grant, coming to business at once,
+“but rather short of money.”
+
+“Ministers most gen'ally are,” said Deacon Gridley, dryly.
+
+“I should think they might be, with the small salaries they get,”
+ said Grant, indignantly.
+
+“Some of 'em do get poorly paid,” replied the deacon; “but I call
+six hundred dollars a pooty fair income.”
+
+“It might be for a single man; but when a minister has a wife and
+three children, like my father, it's pretty hard scratching.”
+
+“Some folks ain't got faculty,” said the deacon, adding,
+complacently, “it never cost me nigh on to six hundred dollars a
+year to live.”
+
+The deacon had the reputation of living very penuriously, and Abram
+Fish, who once worked for him and boarded in the family, said he was
+half starved there.
+
+“You get your milk and vegetables off the farm,” said Grant, who
+felt the comparison was not a fair one. “That makes a great deal of
+difference.”
+
+“It makes some difference,” the deacon admitted, “but not as much as
+the difference in our expenses. I didn't spend more'n a hundred
+dollars cash last year.”
+
+This excessive frugality may have been the reason why Mrs. Deacon
+Gridley was always so shabbily dressed. The poor woman had not had a
+new bonnet for five years, as every lady in the parish well knew.
+
+“Ministers have some expenses that other people don't,” persisted
+Grant.
+
+“What kind of expenses, I'd like to know?”
+
+“They have to buy books and magazines, and entertain missionaries,
+and hire teams to go on exchanges.”
+
+“That's something,” admitted the deacon. “Maybe it amounts to twenty
+or thirty dollars a year.”
+
+“More likely a hundred,” said Grant.
+
+“That would be awful extravagant sinful waste. If I was a minister,
+I'd be more keerful.”
+
+“Well, Deacon Gridley, I don't want to argue with you. I came to see
+if you hadn't collected some money for father. Mr. Tudor has sent in
+his bill, and he wants to be paid.”
+
+“How much is it?”
+
+“Sixty-seven dollars and thirty-four cents.”
+
+“You don't tell me!” said the deacon, scandalized. “You folks must
+be terrible extravagant.”
+
+Grant hardly knew whether to be more vexed or amused.
+
+“If wanting to have enough to eat is extravagant,” he said, “then we
+are.”
+
+“You must live on the fat of the land, Grant.”
+
+“We haven't any of us got the gout, nor are likely to have,”
+ answered Grant, provoked. “But let us come back to business. Have
+you got any money for father?”
+
+Now it so happened that Deacon Gridley had fifty dollars collected,
+but he thought he knew where he could let it out for one per cent,
+for a month, and he did not like to lose the opportunity.
+
+“I'm sorry to disappoint you, Grant,” he answered, “but folks are
+slow about payin' up, and--”
+
+“Haven't you got any money collected?” asked Grant, desperately.
+
+“I'll tell you what I'll do,” said the deacon, with a bright idea.
+“I've got fifty dollars of my own--say for a month, till I can make
+collections.”
+
+“That would be very kind,” said Grant, feeling that he had done the
+deacon an injustice.
+
+“Of course,” the deacon resumed, hastily, “I should have to charge
+interest. In fact, I was goin' to lend out the money to a neighbor
+for a month at one per cent; but I'd just as lieve let your father
+have it at that price.”
+
+“Isn't that more than legal interest?” asked Grant.
+
+“Well, you see, money is worth good interest nowadays. Ef your
+father don't want it, no matter. I can let the other man have it.”
+
+Grant rapidly calculated that the interest would only amount to
+fifty cents, and money must be had.
+
+“I think father'll agree to your terms,” he said. “I'll let you know
+this afternoon.”
+
+“All right, Grant. It don't make a mite of difference to me, but if
+your father wants the money he'll have to speak for it to-day.”
+
+“I'll see that the matter is attended to,” said Grant, and he went
+on his way, pleased with the prospect of obtaining money for their
+impoverished household, even on such hard terms.
+
+Next he made his way to Mr. Tudor's store.
+
+It was one of those country variety stores where almost everything
+in the way of house supplies can be obtained, from groceries to dry
+goods.
+
+Mr. Tudor was a small man, with a parchment skin and insignificant
+features. He was in the act of weighing out a quantity of sugar for
+a customer when Grant entered.
+
+Grant waited till the shopkeeper was at leisure.
+
+“Did you want to see me, Grant?” said Tudor.
+
+“Yes, Mr. Tudor. You sent over a bill to our house this morning.”
+
+“And you've come to pay it. That's right. Money's tight, and I've
+got bills to pay in the city.”
+
+“I've got a little money for you on account,” said Grant, watching
+Tudor's face anxiously.
+
+“How much?” asked the storekeeper, his countenance changing.
+
+“Eight dollars.”
+
+“Eight dollars!” ejaculated Tudor, indignantly. “Only eight dollars
+out of sixty-seven! That's a regular imposition, and I don't care ef
+your father is a minister, I stick to my words.”
+
+Grant was angry, but he remembered his mother's injunction to
+restrain his temper.
+
+“We'd like to pay the whole, Mr. Tudor, if we had the money, and--”
+
+“Do you think I can trust the whole neighborhood, and only get one
+dollar in ten of what's due me?” spluttered Mr. Tudor. “Ministers
+ought to set a better example.”
+
+“Ministers ought to get better pay,” said Grant.
+
+“There's plenty don't get as much as your father. When do you expect
+to pay the rest, I'd like to know? I s'pose you expect me to go on
+trustin', and mebbe six months from now you'll pay me another eight
+dollars,” said the storekeeper, with withering sarcasm.
+
+“I was going to tell you, if you hadn't interrupted me,” said Grant,
+“that we should probably have some more money for you to-morrow.”
+
+“How much?”
+
+“Twenty-five dollars,” answered the boy, knowing that part of the
+money borrowed must go in other quarters. “Will that be
+satisfactory?”
+
+“That's more like!” said Tudor, calming down. “Ef you'll pay that
+I'll give you a leetle more time on the rest. Do you want anything
+this mornin'? I've got some prime butter just come in.”
+
+“I'll call for some articles this afternoon, Mr. Tudor. Here are the
+eight dollars. Please credit us with that sum.”
+
+“Well, I've accomplished something,” said Grant to himself as he
+plodded homeward.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III -- GRANT WALKS TO SOMERSET
+
+
+
+GODFREY THORNTON, Grant's uncle, lived in the neighboring town of
+Somerset. He was an old bachelor, three years older than his
+brother, the minister, and followed the profession of a lawyer. His
+business was not large, but his habits were frugal, and he had
+managed to save up ten thousand dollars. Grant had always been a
+favorite with him, and having no son of his own he had formed the
+plan of sending him to college. He was ambitious that he should be a
+professional man.
+
+It might have been supposed that he would have felt disposed to
+assist his brother, whose scanty salary he knew was inadequate to
+the needs of a family. But Godfrey Thornton was an obstinate man,
+and chose to give assistance in his own way, and no other. It would
+be a very handsome thing, he thought, to give his nephew a college
+education. And so, indeed, it would. But he forgot one thing. In
+families of limited means, when a boy reaches the age of fifteen or
+sixteen he is very properly expected to earn something toward the
+family income, and this Grant could not do while preparing for
+college. If his uncle could have made up his mind to give his
+brother a small sum annually to make up for this, all would have
+been well. Not that this idea had suggested itself to the Rev. John
+Thorn-ton. He felt grateful for his brother's intentions toward
+Grant, and had bright hopes of his boy's future. But, in truth,
+pecuniary troubles affected him less than his wife. She was the
+manager, and it was for her to contrive and be anxious.
+
+After Grant had arranged the matters referred to in the preceding
+chapter, he told his mother that he proposed to go to Somerset to
+call on his uncle.
+
+“No, Grant, I don't object, though I should be sorry to have you
+lose the chance of an education.”
+
+“I have a very fair education already, mother. Of course I should
+like to go to college, but I can't bear to have you and father
+struggling with poverty. If I become a business man, I may have a
+better chance to help you. At any rate, I can help you sooner. If I
+can only induce Uncle Godfrey to give you the sum my education would
+cost him, I shall feel perfectly easy.”
+
+“You can make the attempt, my son, but I have doubts about your
+success.”
+
+Grant, however, was more hopeful. He didn't see why his uncle should
+object, and it would cost him no more money. It seemed to him very
+plain sailing, and he set out to walk to Somerset, full of courage
+and hope.
+
+It was a pretty direct road, and the distance--five miles--was not
+formidable to a strong-limbed boy like Grant. In an hour and a half
+he entered the village, and soon reached the small one-story
+building which served his uncle as an office.
+
+Entering, he saw his uncle busy with some papers at his desk.
+
+The old lawyer raised his eyes as the door opened.
+
+“So it's you, Grant, is it?” he said. “Nobody sick at home, eh?”
+
+“No, Uncle Godfrey, we are all well.”
+
+“I was afraid some one might be sick, from your coming over.
+However, I suppose you have some errand in Somerset.”
+
+“My only errand is to call upon you, uncle.”
+
+“I suppose I am to consider that a compliment,” said the old
+bachelor, not ill pleased. “Well, and when are you going to be ready
+for college?”
+
+“I can be ready to enter in September,” replied Grant.
+
+“That is good. All you will have to do will be to present yourself
+for examination. I shall see you through, as I have promised.”
+
+“You are very kind, Uncle Godfrey,” said Grant; and then he
+hesitated.
+
+“It's Thornton family pride, Grant. I want my nephew to be somebody.
+I want you to be a professional man, and take a prominent place in
+the world.”
+
+“Can't I be somebody without becoming a professional man, or---”
+
+“Or, what?” asked his uncle, abruptly.
+
+“Getting a college education?” continued Grant.
+
+“What does this mean?” asked the old lawyer, knitting his brow.
+“You're not getting off the notion of going to college, I hope?”
+
+“I should like to go to college, uncle.”
+
+“I'm glad to hear that,” said Godfrey Thornton, relieved. “I thought
+you might want to grow up a dunce, and become a bricklayer or
+something of that kind.”
+
+Somehow Grant's task began to seem more difficult than he had
+anticipated.
+
+“But,” continued Grant, summoning up his courage, “I am afraid it
+will be rather selfish.”
+
+“I can't say I understand you, Grant. As long as I am willing to pay
+your college bills, I don't see why there is anything selfish in
+your accepting my offer.”
+
+“I mean as regards father and mother.”
+
+“Don't I take you off their hands? What do you mean?”
+
+“I mean this, Uncle Godfrey,” said Grant, boldly, “I ought to be at
+work earning money to keep them. Father's income is very small,
+and--”
+
+“You don't mean to say you want to give up going to college?” said
+Godfrey Thornton, hastily.
+
+“I think I ought to, uncle.”
+
+“Why?”
+
+“So that I can find work and help father along. You see, I should be
+four years in college, and three years studying a profession, and
+all that time my brother and sister would be growing older and more
+expensive, and father would be getting into debt.”
+
+Uncle Godfrey's brow wore a perceptible frown.
+
+“Tell me who has put this idea into your head?” he said. “I am sure
+it isn't your father.”
+
+“No one put it into my head, Uncle Godfrey. It's my own idea.”
+
+“Humph! old heads don't grow on young shoulders, evidently. You are
+a foolish boy, Grant. With a liberal education you can do something
+for your family.”
+
+“But it is so long to wait,” objected Grant.
+
+“It will be a great disappointment to me to have you give up going
+to college, but of course I can't force you to go,” said his uncle,
+coldly. “It will save me three hundred dollars a year for four
+years-I may say for seven, however. You will be throwing away a
+grand opportunity.”
+
+“Don't think I undervalue the advantage of a college training,
+uncle,” said Grant, eagerly. “It isn't that. It's because I thought
+I might help father. In fact, I wanted to make a proposal to you.”
+
+“What is it?”
+
+“You say it will cost three hundred dollars a year to keep me in
+college?”
+
+“Well?”
+
+“Would you be willing to give father two hundred a year for the next
+four years, and let me take care of myself in some business place?”
+
+“So this is your proposal, is it?”
+
+“Yes, sir.”
+
+“All I have got to say is, that you have got uncommon assurance. You
+propose to defeat my cherished plan, and want me to pay two hundred
+dollars a year in acknowledgment of your consideration.”
+
+“I am sorry you look upon it in that light, Uncle Godfrey.”
+
+“I distinctly decline your proposal. If you refuse to go to college,
+I wash my hands of you and your family. Do you understand that?”
+
+“Yes, Uncle Godfrey,” answered Grant, crestfallen.
+
+“Go home and think over the matter. My offer still holds good. You
+can present yourself at college in September, and, if you are
+admitted, notify me.”
+
+The lawyer turned back to his writing, and Grant understood that the
+interview was over.
+
+In sadness he started on his return walk from Somerset. He had
+accomplished nothing except to make his uncle angry. He could not
+make up his mind what to do.
+
+He had walked about four miles when his attention was sharply drawn
+by a cry of terror. Looking up quickly, he saw a girl of fourteen
+flying along the road pursued by a drunken man armed with a big
+club. They were not more than thirty feet apart, and the situation
+was critical.
+
+Grant was no coward, and he instantly resolved to rescue the girl if
+it were a possible thing.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV -- A TIMELY RESCUE
+
+
+
+“I will save her if I can,” said Grant to himself.
+
+The task, however, was not an easy one. The drunken man was tall and
+strongly made, and his condition did not appear to interfere with
+his locomotion. He was evidently half crazed with drink, and his
+pursuit of the young girl arose probably from a blind impulse; but
+it was likely to be none the less serious for her. Grant saw at once
+that he was far from being a match for the drunkard in physical
+strength. If he had been timid, a regard for his personal safety
+would have led him to keep aloof. But he would have despised himself
+if he had not done what he could for the girl--stranger though she
+was--who was in such peril.
+
+It chanced that Grant had cut a stout stick to help him on his way.
+This suggested his plan of campaign. He ran sideways toward the
+pursuer, and thrust his stick between his legs, tripping him up. The
+man fell violently forward, and lay as if stunned, breathing
+heavily. Grant was alarmed at first, fearing that he might be
+seriously hurt, but a glance assured him that his stupor was chiefly
+the result of his potations.
+
+Then he hurried to overtake the girl, who, seeing what had taken
+place, had paused in her flight.
+
+“Don't be frightened,” said Grant. “The man can't get up at present.
+I will see you home if you will tell me where you live.”
+
+“I am boarding at Mrs. Granger's, quarter of a mile back, mamma and
+I,” answered the girl, the color, temporarily banished by fright,
+returning to her cheeks.
+
+“Where did you fall in with this man?” inquired Grant.
+
+“I was taking a walk,” answered the girl, “and overtook him. I did
+not take much notice of him at first, and was not aware of his
+condition till he began to run after me. Then I was almost
+frightened to death, and I don't think I ever ran so fast in my
+life.”
+
+“You were in serious danger. He was fast overtaking you.”
+
+“I saw that he was, and I believe I should have dropped if you had
+not come up and saved me. How brave you were!”
+
+Grant colored with pleasure, though he disclaimed the praise.
+
+“Oh, it was nothing!” he said, modestly. “But we had better start at
+once, for he may revive.”
+
+“Oh, let us go then,” exclaimed the girl in terror, and, hardly
+knowing what she did, she seized Grant's arm. “See, he is beginning
+to stir. Do come quickly!”
+
+Clinging to Grant's arm, the two hastened away, leaving the
+inebriate on the ground.
+
+Grant now had leisure to view more closely the girl he had rescued.
+She was a very pretty girl, a year or two younger than himself, with
+a bright, vivacious manner, and her young rescuer thought her very
+attractive.
+
+“Do you live round here?” she asked.
+
+“I live in Colebrook, the village close by. I was walking from
+Somerset.”
+
+“I should like to know the name of the one who has done me so great
+a service.”
+
+“We will exchange names, if you like,” said Grant, smiling. “My name
+is Grant Thornton. I am the son of Rev. John Thornton, who is
+minister in Colebrook.”
+
+“So you are a minister's son. I have always heard that minister's
+sons are apt to be wild,” said the girl, smiling mischievously.
+
+“I am an exception,” said Grant, demurely.
+
+“I am ready to believe it,” returned his companion. “My name is
+Carrie Clifton; my mother is a minister's daughter, so I have a
+right to think well of ministers' families.”
+
+“How long have you been boarding in this neighborhood, Miss Carrie?”
+
+“Only a week. I am afraid I shan't dare to stay here any longer.”
+
+“It is not often you would meet with such an adventure as this. I
+hope you won't allow it to frighten you away.”
+
+“Do you know that drunken man? Does he live nearby?”
+
+“I think he is a stranger--a tramp. I never saw him before, and I
+know almost everybody who lives about here.”
+
+“I am glad he doesn't live here.”
+
+“He will probably push on his way and not come this way again during
+the summer.”
+
+“I hope you are right. He might try to revenge himself on you for
+tripping him up.”
+
+“I don't think he saw me to recognize me. He was so drunk that he
+didn't know what he was about. When he gets over his intoxication he
+probably won't remember anything that has happened.”
+
+By this time they had reached the gate of the farmhouse where Carrie
+was boarding, and Grant prepared to leave her.
+
+“I think you are safe now,” he said.
+
+“Oh, but I shan't let you go yet,” said the girl. “You must come in
+and see mother.”
+
+Grant hesitated, but he felt that he should like to meet the mother
+of a young lady who seemed to him so attractive, and he allowed
+himself to be led into the yard. Mrs. Clifton was sitting in a
+rustic chair under a tree behind the house. There Grant and his
+companion found her. Carrie poured forth her story impetuously, and
+then drawing Grant forward, indicated him as her rescuer.
+
+Her mother listened with natural alarm, shuddering at the peril from
+which her daughter had so happily escaped.
+
+“I cannot tell how grateful I am to you for the service you have
+done my daughter,” she said, warmly. “You are a very brave boy.
+There is not one in ten who would have had the courage to act as you
+did.”
+
+“You praise me more than I deserve, Mrs. Clifton. I saw the man was
+drunk, and I did not really run much risk in what I did. I am very
+thankful that I was able to be of service to Miss Carrie.”
+
+“It is most fortunate that you were at hand. My daughter might have
+been killed.”
+
+“What do you think, mother? He is a minister's son,” said Carrie,
+vivaciously.
+
+“That certainly is no objection in my eyes,” said Mrs. Clifton,
+smiling, “for I am a minister's daughter. Where does your father
+preach?”
+
+“His church is only a mile distant, in the village.”
+
+“I shall hear him, then, next Sunday. Last Sunday Carrie and I were
+both tired, and remained at home, but I have always been accustomed
+to go to church somewhere.”
+
+“Papa will be here next Sunday,” said Carrie. “He can only come
+Saturday night on account of his business.”
+
+“Does he do business in New York?” asked Grant.
+
+“Yes; his store is on Broadway.”
+
+“We live on Madison Avenue, and whenever you are in the city we
+shall be very glad to have you call,” said Mrs. Clifton, graciously.
+
+“Thank you; I should like to call very much,” answered Grant, who
+was quite sincere in what he said. “But I don't often go to New
+York.”
+
+“Perhaps you will get a place there some time,” suggested Carrie.
+
+“I should like to,” replied Grant.
+
+“Then your father does not propose to send you to college?” It was
+Mrs. Clifton who said this.
+
+“He wishes me to go, but I think I ought to go to work to help him.
+He has two other children besides me.”
+
+“Is either one a girl?” asked Carrie.
+
+“Yes; I have a sister of thirteen, named Mary.”
+
+“I wish you would bring her here to see me,” said Carrie. “I haven't
+got acquainted with any girls yet.”
+
+Mrs. Clifton seconded the invitation, and Grant promised that he
+would do so. In fact, he was pleased at the opportunity it would
+give him of improving his acquaintance with the young lady from New
+York. He returned home very well pleased with his trip to Somerset,
+though he had failed in the object of his expedition.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V -- MRS. THORNTON'S PEARLS
+
+
+
+The next Sunday Mrs. Clifton and her daughter appeared at church,
+and Grant had the pleasure of greeting them. He was invited with his
+sister to take supper with them on the next Monday afternoon, and
+accepted the invitation. About sunset he met his new friends
+walking, with the addition of the husband and father, who, coming
+Saturday evening from New York, had felt too fatigued to attend
+church. Mr. Clifton, to whom he was introduced, was a portly man in
+middle life, who received Grant quite graciously, and made for
+himself acknowledgment of the service which our hero had rendered
+his daughter.
+
+“If I ever have the opportunity of doing you a favor, Master
+Thornton, you may call upon me with confidence,” he said.
+
+Grant thanked him, and was better pleased than if he had received an
+immediate gift.
+
+Meanwhile Deacon Gridley kept his promise, and advanced the minister
+fifty dollars, deducting a month's interest. Even with this
+deduction Mrs. Thornton was very glad to obtain the money. Part of
+it was paid on account to Mr. Tudor, and silenced his importunities
+for a time. As to his own plans, there was nothing for Grant to do
+except to continue his studies, as he might enter college after all.
+
+If any employment should offer of a remunerative character, he felt
+that it would be his duty to accept it, in spite of his uncle's
+objections; but such chances were not very likely to happen while he
+remained in the country, for obvious reasons.
+
+Three weeks passed, and again not only Mr. Tudor, but another
+creditor, began to be troublesome.
+
+“How soon is your father going to pay up his bill?” asked Tudor,
+when Grant called at the store for a gallon of molasses.
+
+“Very soon, I hope,” faltered Grant.
+
+“I hope so, too,” answered the grocer, grimly.
+
+“Only three weeks ago I paid you thirty-three dollars,” said Grant.
+
+“And you have been increasing the balance ever since,” said Tudor,
+frowning.
+
+“If father could get his salary regularly--” commenced Grant.
+
+“That's his affair, not mine,” rejoined the grocer. “I have to pay
+my bills regular, and I can't afford to wait months for my pay.”
+
+Grant looked uncomfortable, but did not know what to say.
+
+“The short and the long of it is, that after this week your father
+must either pay up his bill, or pay cash for what articles he gets
+hereafter.”
+
+“Very well,” said Grant, coldly. He was too proud to remonstrate.
+Moreover, though he felt angry, he was constrained to admit that the
+grocer had some reason for his course.
+
+“Something must be done,” he said to himself, but he was not wise
+enough to decide what that something should be.
+
+Though he regretted to pain his mother, he felt obliged to report to
+her what the grocer had said.
+
+“Don't be troubled, mother,” he said, as he noticed the shade of
+anxiety which came over her face. “Something will turn up.”
+
+Mrs. Thornton shook her head.
+
+“It isn't safe to trust to that, Grant,” she said; “we must help
+ourselves.”
+
+“I wish I knew how,” said Grant, perplexed.
+
+“I am afraid I shall have to make a sacrifice,” said Mrs. Thornton,
+not addressing Grant, but rather in soliloquy.
+
+Grant looked at his mother in surprise. What sacrifice could she
+refer to? Did she mean that they must move into a smaller house, and
+retrench generally? That was all that occurred to him.
+
+“We might, perhaps, move into a smaller house, mother,” said he,
+“but we have none too much room here, and the difference in rent
+wouldn't be much.”
+
+“I didn't mean that, Grant. Listen, and I will tell you what I do
+mean. You know that I was named after a rich lady, the friend of my
+mother?”
+
+“I have heard you say so.”
+
+“When she died, she left me by will a pearl necklace and pearl
+bracelets, both of very considerable value.”
+
+“I have never seen you wear them, mother.”
+
+“No; I have not thought they would be suitable for the wife of a
+poor minister. My wearing them would excite unfavorable comment in
+the parish.”
+
+“I don't see whose business it would be,” said Grant, indignantly.
+
+“At any rate, just or not, I knew what would be said,” Mrs. Thornton
+replied.
+
+“How is it you have never shown the pearl ornaments to me, mother?”
+
+“You were only five years old when they came to me, and I laid them
+away at once, and have seldom thought of them since. I have been
+thinking that, as they are of no use to me, I should be justified in
+selling them for what I can get, and appropriating the proceeds
+toward paying your father's debts.”
+
+“How much do you think they are worth, mother?”
+
+“A lady to whom I showed them once said they must have cost five
+hundred dollars or more.”
+
+Grant whistled.
+
+“Do you mind showing them to me, mother?” he asked.
+
+Mrs. Thornton went upstairs, and brought down the pearl necklace and
+bracelets. They were very handsome and Grant gazed at them with
+admiration.
+
+“I wonder what the ladies would say if you should wear them to the
+sewing circle,” he said, humorously.
+
+“They would think I was going over to the vanities of this world,”
+ responded his mother, smiling. “They can be of no possible use to me
+now, or hereafter, and I believe it will be the best thing I can do
+to sell them.”
+
+“Where can you sell them? No one here can afford to buy them.”
+
+“They must be sold in New York, and I must depend upon you to attend
+to the business for me.”
+
+“Can you trust me, mother? Wouldn't father--”
+
+“Your father has no head for business, Grant. He is a learned man,
+and knows a great deal about books, but of practical matters he
+knows very little. You are only a boy, but you are a very sensible
+and trustworthy boy, and I shall have to depend upon you.”
+
+“I will do the best I can, mother. Only tell me what you want me to
+do.”
+
+“I wish you to take these pearls, and go to New York. You can find a
+purchaser there, if anywhere. I suppose it will be best to take them
+to some jewelry store, and drive the best bargain you can.”
+
+“When do you wish me to go, mother?”
+
+“There can be no advantage in delay. If tomorrow is pleasant, you
+may as well go then.”
+
+“Shall you tell father your plan?”
+
+“No, Grant, it might make him feel bad to think I was compelled to
+make a sacrifice, which, after all, is very little of a sacrifice to
+me. Years since I decided to trouble him as little as possible with
+matters of business. It could do no good, and, by making him
+anxious, unfitted him for his professional work.”
+
+Mrs. Thornton's course may not be considered wise by some, but she
+knew her husband's peculiar mental constitution, and her object at
+least was praiseworthy, to screen him from undue anxiety, though it
+involved an extra share for herself.
+
+The next morning Grant took an early breakfast, and walked briskly
+toward the depot to take the first train for New York.
+
+The fare would be a dollar and a quarter each way, for the distance
+was fifty miles, and this both he and his mother felt to be a large
+outlay. If, however, he succeeded in his errand it would be wisely
+spent, and this was their hope.
+
+At the depot Grant found Tom Calder, a youth of eighteen, who had
+the reputation of being wild, and had been suspected of dishonesty.
+He had been employed in the city, so that Grant was not surprised to
+meet him at the depot.
+
+“Hello, Grant! Where are you bound?” he asked.
+
+“I am going to New York.”
+
+“What for?”
+
+“A little business,” Grant answered, evasively. Tom was the last
+person he felt inclined to take into his confidence.
+
+“Goin' to try to get a place?”
+
+“If any good chance offers I shall accept it--that is, if father and
+mother are willing.”
+
+“Let's take a seat together--that's what I'm going for myself.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI -- GRANT GETS INTO UNEXPECTED TROUBLE
+
+
+
+TOM CALDER was not the companion Grant would have chosen, but there
+seemed no good excuse for declining his company. He belonged to a
+rather disreputable family living in the borders of the village. If
+this had been all, it would not have been fair to object to him, but
+Tom himself bore not a very high reputation. He had been suspected
+more than once of stealing from his school companions, and when
+employed for a time by Mr. Tudor, in the village store, the latter
+began to miss money from the till; but Tom was so sly that he had
+been unable to bring the theft home to him. However, he thought it
+best to dispense with his services.
+
+“What kind of a situation are you goin' to try for?” asked Tom, when
+they were fairly on their way.
+
+“I don't know. They say that beggars mustn't be choosers.”
+
+“I want to get into a broker's office if I can,” said Tom.
+
+“Do you consider that a very good business?” asked Grant.
+
+“I should say so,” responded Tom, emphatically.
+
+“Do they pay high wages?”
+
+“Not extra, but a feller can get points, and make something out of
+the market.”
+
+“What's that?” asked Grant, puzzled.
+
+“Oh, I forgot. You ain't used to the city,” responded Tom,
+emphatically. “I mean, you find out when a stock is going up, and
+you buy for a rise.”
+
+“But doesn't that take considerable money?” asked Grant, wondering
+how Tom could raise money to buy stocks.
+
+“Oh, you can go to the bucket shops,” answered Tom.
+
+“But what have bucket shops to do with stocks?” asked Grant, more
+than ever puzzled.
+
+Tom burst into a loud laugh.
+
+“Ain't you jolly green, though?” he ejaculated.
+
+Grant was rather nettled at this.
+
+“I don't see how I could be expected to understand such talk,” he
+said, with some asperity.
+
+“That's where it is--you can't,” said Tom. “It's all like A, B, C to
+me, and I forgot that you didn't know anything about Wall Street. A
+bucket shop is where you can buy stock in small lots, putting down a
+dollar a share as margin. If stocks go up, you sell out on the rise,
+and get back your dollar minus commission.”
+
+“Suppose they go down?”
+
+“Then you lose what you put up.”
+
+“Isn't it rather risky?”
+
+“Of course there's some risk, but if you have a good point there
+isn't much.”
+
+This was Tom Calder's view of the matter. As a matter of fact, the
+great majority of those who visit the bucket shops lose all they put
+in, and are likely sooner or later to get into difficulty; so that
+many employers will at once discharge a clerk or boy known to
+speculate in this way.
+
+“If I had any money I'd buy some stock to-day; that is, as soon as I
+get to the city,” continued Tom. “You couldn't lend me five dollars,
+could you?”
+
+“No, I couldn't,” answered Grant, shortly.
+
+“I'd give you half the profits.”
+
+“I haven't got the money,” Grant explained.
+
+“That's a pity. The fact is, I'm rather short. However, I know
+plenty of fellows in the city, and I guess I can raise a tenner or
+so.”
+
+“Then your credit must be better in New York than in Colebrook,”
+ thought Grant, but he fore-bore to say so.
+
+Grant was rather glad the little package of pearls was in the pocket
+furthest away from Tom, for his opinion of his companion's honesty
+was not the highest.
+
+When half an hour had passed, Tom vacated his seat.
+
+“I'm going into the smoking car,” he said, “to have a smoke. Won't
+you come with me?”
+
+“No, thank you. I don't smoke.”
+
+“Then it's time you began. I've got a cigarette for you, if you'll
+try it.”
+
+“Much obliged, but I am better off without it.”
+
+“You'll soon get over that little-boy feeling. Why, boys in the city
+of half your age smoke.”
+
+“I am sorry to hear it.”
+
+“Well, ta-ta! I'll be back soon.”
+
+Grant was not sorry to have Tom leave him. He didn't enjoy his
+company, and besides he foresaw that it would be rather embarrassing
+if Tom should take a fancy to remain with him in the city. He didn't
+care to have anyone, certainly not Tom, learn on what errand he had
+come to the city.
+
+Two minutes had scarcely elapsed after Tom vacated his seat, when a
+pleasant-looking gentleman of middle age, who had been sitting just
+behind them, rose and took the seat beside Grant.
+
+“I will sit with you if you don't object,” said he.
+
+“I should be glad of your company,” said Grant, politely.
+
+“You live in the country, I infer?”
+
+“Yes, sir.”
+
+“I overheard your conversation with the young man who has just left
+you. I suspect you are not very much alike.”
+
+“I hope not, sir. Perhaps Tom would say the same, for he thinks me
+green.”
+
+“There is such a thing as knowing too much--that isn't desirable to
+know. So you don't smoke?”
+
+“No, sir.”
+
+“I wish more boys of your age could say as much. Do I understand
+that you are going to the city in search of employment?”
+
+“That is not my chief errand,” answered Grant, with some hesitation.
+“Still, if I could hear of a good chance, I might induce my parents
+to let me accept it.”
+
+“Where do you live, my young friend?”
+
+“In Colebrook. My father is the minister there.”
+
+“That ought to be a recommendation, for it is to be supposed you
+have been carefully trained. Some of our most successful business
+men have been ministers' sons.”
+
+“Are you in business in New York, sir?” asked Grant, thinking he had
+a right by this time to ask a question.
+
+“Yes; here is my card.”
+
+Taking the card, Grant learned that his companion was Mr. Henry
+Reynolds and was a broker, with an office in New Street.
+
+“I see you are a broker, sir,” said Grant. “Tom Calder wants to get
+a place in a broker's office.”
+
+“I should prefer that he would try some other broker,” said Mr.
+Reynolds, smiling. “I don't want a boy who deals with the bucket
+shops.”
+
+At this point Tom re-entered the car, having finished his cigarette.
+Observing that his place had been taken, he sat down at a little
+distance.
+
+“When you get ready to take a place,” said the broker, “call at my
+office, and though I won't promise to give you a place, I shall feel
+well disposed to if I can make room for you.”
+
+“Thank you, sir,” said Grant, gratefully. “I hope if I ever do enter
+your employment, I shall merit your confidence.”
+
+“I have good hopes of it. By the way, you may as well give me your
+name.”
+
+“I am Grant Thornton, of Colebrook,” said our hero.
+
+Mr. Reynolds entered the name in a little pocket diary, and left the
+seat, which Tom Calder immediately took.
+
+“Who's that old codger?” he asked.
+
+“The gentleman who has just left me is a New York business man.”
+
+“You got pretty thick with him, eh?”
+
+“We talked a little.”
+
+Grant took care not to mention that Mr. Reynolds was a broker, as
+he knew that Tom would press for an introduction in that case.
+
+When they reached New York, Tom showed a disposition to remain with
+Grant, but the latter said: “We'd better separate, and we can meet
+again after we have attended to our business.”
+
+A meeting place was agreed upon, and Tom went his way.
+
+Now came the difficult part of Grant's task. Where should he go to
+dispose of his pearls? He walked along undecided, till he came to a
+large jewelry store. It struck him that this would be a good place
+for his purpose, and he entered.
+
+“What can I do for you, young man?” asked a man of thirty behind the
+counter.
+
+“I have some pearl ornaments I would like to sell,” said Grant.
+
+“Indeed,” said the clerk, fixing a suspicious glance upon Grant;
+“let me see them.”
+
+Grant took out the necklace and bracelets, and passed them over. No
+sooner had he done so than a showily dressed lady advanced to the
+place where he was standing, and held out her hand for the
+ornaments, exclaiming: “I forbid you to buy those articles, sir.
+They are mine. The boy stole them from me, and I have followed him
+here, suspecting that he intended to dispose of them.”
+
+“That is false,” exclaimed Grant, indignantly. “I never saw that
+woman before in my life.”
+
+“So you are a liar as well as a thief!” said the woman. “You will
+please give me those pearls, sir.”
+
+The clerk looked at the two contestants in indecision. He was
+disposed to believe the lady's statement.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII -- MRS. SIMPSON COMES TO GRIEF
+
+
+
+“Surely I have a right to my own property,” said the showily dressed
+lady in a tone of authority, which quite imposed upon the
+weak-minded salesman.
+
+“I dare say you are right, ma'am,” said he, hesitatingly.
+
+“Of course I am,” said she.
+
+“If you give her those pearls, which belong to my mother, I will
+have you arrested,” said Grant, plucking up spirit.
+
+“Hoity-toity!” said the lady, contemptuously. “I hope you won't pay
+any regard to what that young thief says.”
+
+The clerk looked undecided. He beckoned an older salesman, and laid
+the matter before him. The latter looked searchingly at the two.
+Grant was flushed and excited, and the lady had a brazen front.
+
+“Do you claim these pearls, madam?” he said.
+
+“I do,” she answered, promptly.
+
+“How did you come by them?”
+
+“They were a wedding present from my husband.”
+
+“May I ask your name?”
+
+The lady hesitated a moment, then answered:
+
+“Mrs. Simpson.”
+
+“Where do you live?”
+
+There was another slight hesitation. Then came the answer:
+
+“No.--Madison Avenue.”
+
+Now Madison Avenue is a fashionable street, and the name produced an
+impression on the first clerk.
+
+“I think the pearls belong to the lady,” he whispered.
+
+“I have some further questions to ask,” returned the elder salesman,
+in a low voice.
+
+“Do you know this boy whom you charge with stealing your property?”
+
+“Yes,” answered the lady, to Grant's exceeding surprise; “he is a
+poor boy whom I have employed to do errands.”
+
+“Has he had the run of your house?”
+
+“Yes, that's the way of it. He must have managed to find his way to
+the second floor, and opened the bureau drawer where I kept the
+pearls.”
+
+“What have you to say to this?” asked the elder salesman.
+
+“Please ask the lady my name,” suggested Grant.
+
+“Don't you know your own name?” demanded the lady, sharply.
+
+“Yes, but I don't think you do.”
+
+“Can you answer the boy's question, Mrs. Simpson?”
+
+“Of course I can. His name is John Cavanaugh, and the very suit he
+has on I gave him.”
+
+Grant was thunderstruck at the lady's brazen front. She was
+outwardly a fine lady, but he began to suspect that she was an
+impostor.
+
+“I am getting tired of this,” said the so-called Mrs. Simpson,
+impatiently. “Will you, or will you not, restore my pearls?” “When
+we are satisfied that they belong to you, madam,” said the elder
+salesman, coolly. “I don't feel like taking the responsibility, but
+will send for my employer, and leave the matter to him to decide.”
+
+“I hope I won't have long to wait, sir.”
+
+“I will send at once.”
+
+“It's a pretty state of things when a lady has her own property kept
+from her,” said Mrs. Simpson, while the elder clerk was at the other
+end of the store, giving some instructions to a boy.
+
+“I don't in the least doubt your claim to the articles, Mrs.
+Simpson,” said the first salesman, obsequiously. “Come, boy, you'd
+better own up that you have stolen the articles, and the lady will
+probably let you off this time.”
+
+“Yes, I will let him off this time,” chimed in the lady. “I don't
+want to send him to prison.”
+
+“If you can prove that I am a thief, I am willing to go,” said
+Grant, hotly.
+
+By this time the elder salesman had come back.
+
+“Is your name John Cavanaugh, my boy?” he asked.
+
+“No, sir.”
+
+“Did you ever see this lady before?”
+
+“No, sir.”
+
+The lady threw up her hands in feigned amazement.
+
+“I wouldn't have believed the boy would lie so!” she said.
+
+“What is your name?”
+
+“My name is Grant Thornton. I live in Colebrook, and my father is
+Rev. John Thornton.”
+
+“I know there is such a minister there. To whom do these pearls
+belong?”
+
+“To my mother.”
+
+“A likely story that a country minister's wife should own such
+valuable pearls,” said Mrs. Simpson, in a tone of sarcasm.
+
+“How do you account for it?” asked the clerk.
+
+“They were given my mother years since, by a rich lady who was a
+good friend of hers. She has never had occasion to wear them.”
+
+Mrs. Simpson smiled significantly.
+
+“The boy has learned his story,” she said. “I did not give you
+credit for such an imagination, John Cavanaugh.”
+
+“My name is Grant Thornton, madam,” said our hero, gravely.
+
+Five minutes later two men entered the store. One was a policeman,
+the other the head of the firm. When Grant's eye fell on the
+policeman he felt nervous, but when he glanced at the gentleman his
+face lighted up with pleasure.
+
+“Why, it's Mr. Clifton,” he said.
+
+“Grant Thornton,” said the jeweler, in surprise. “Why, I thought--”
+
+“You will do me justice, Mr. Clifton,” said Grant, and thereupon he
+related the circumstances already known to the reader.
+
+When Mrs. Simpson found that the boy whom she had selected as an
+easy victim was known to the proprietor of the place, she became
+nervous, and only thought of escape.
+
+“It is possible that I am mistaken,” she said. “Let me look at the
+pearls again.”
+
+They were held up for her inspection.
+
+“They are very like mine,” she said, after a brief glance; “but I
+see there is a slight difference.”
+
+“How about the boy, madam?” asked the elder clerk.
+
+“He is the very image of my errand boy; but if Mr. Clifton knows
+him, I must be mistaken. I am sorry to have given you so much
+trouble. I have an engagement to meet, and must go.”
+
+“Stop, madam!” said Mr. Clifton, sternly, interposing an obstacle to
+her departure, “we can't spare you yet.”
+
+“I really must go, sir. I give up all claim to the pearls.”
+
+“That is not sufficient. You have laid claim to them, knowing that
+they were not yours. Officer, have you ever seen this woman before?”
+
+“Yes, sir, I know her well.”
+
+“How dare you insult me?” demanded Mrs. Simpson; but there was a
+tremor in her voice.
+
+“I give her in charge for an attempted swindle,” said Mr. Clifton.
+
+“You will have to come with me, madam,” said the policeman. “You may
+as well go quietly.”
+
+“Well, the game is up,” said the woman, with a careless laugh.
+
+“It came near succeeding, though.”
+
+“Now, my boy,” said the jeweler, “I will attend to your business.
+You want to sell these pearls?”
+
+“Yes, sir; they are of no use to mother, and she needs the money.”
+
+“At what do you value them?”
+
+“I leave that to you, sir. I shall be satisfied with what you think
+them worth.”
+
+The jeweler examined them attentively. After his examination was
+concluded, he said: “I am willing to give four hundred dollars for
+them. Of course they cost more, but I shall have to reset them.”
+
+“That is more than I expected,” said Grant, joyfully. “It will pay
+all our debts, and give us a little fund to help us in future.”
+
+“Do you wish the money now? There might be some risk in a boy like
+you carrying so much with you.”
+
+“What would you advise, Mr. Clifton?”
+
+“That you take perhaps a hundred dollars, and let me bring the
+balance next Saturday night, when I come to pass Sunday at
+Colebrook.”
+
+“Thank you, sir; if it won't be too much trouble for you.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII -- GRANT TAKES A DECISIVE STEP
+
+
+
+Grant came home a messenger of good tidings, as his beaming face
+plainly showed. His mother could hardly believe in her good fortune,
+when Grant informed her that he had sold the pearls for four hundred
+dollars.
+
+“Why, that will pay up all your father's debts,” she said, “and we
+shall once more feel independent.”
+
+“And with a good reserve fund besides,” suggested Grant.
+
+On Saturday evening he called on Mr. Clifton, and received the
+balance of the purchase money. On Monday, with a little list of
+creditors, and his pocket full of money, he made a round of calls,
+and paid up everybody, including Mr. Tudor.
+
+“I told you the bill would be paid, Mr. Tudor,” he said, quietly, to
+the grocer.
+
+“You mustn't feel hard on me on account of my pressing you, Grant,”
+ said the grocer, well pleased, in a conciliatory tone. “You see, I
+needed money to pay my bills.”
+
+“You seemed to think my father didn't mean to pay you,” said Grant,
+who could not so easily get over what he had considered unfriendly
+conduct on the part of Mr. Tudor.
+
+“No, I didn't. Of course I knew he was honest, but all the same I
+needed the money. I wish all my customers was as honest as your
+folks.”
+
+With this Grant thought it best to be contented. The time might come
+again when they would require the forbearance of the grocer; but he
+did not mean that it should be so if he could help it. For he was
+more than ever resolved to give up the project of going to college.
+The one hundred and fifty dollars which remained after paying the
+debts would tide them over a year, but his college course would
+occupy four; and then there would be three years more of study to
+fit him for entering a profession, and so there would be plenty of
+time for the old difficulties to return. If the parish would
+increase kis father's salary by even a hundred dollars, they might
+get along; but there was such a self-complacent feeling in the
+village that Mr. Thornton was liberally paid, that he well knew
+there was no chance of that.
+
+Upon this subject he had more than one earnest conversation with his
+mother.
+
+“I should be sorry to have you leave home,” she said; “but I
+acknowledge the force of your reasons.”
+
+“I shouldn't be happy at college, mother,” responded Grant, “if I
+thought you were pinched at home.”
+
+“If you were our only child, Grant, it would be different.”
+
+“That is true; but there are Frank and Mary who would suffer. If I
+go to work I shall soon be able to help you take care of them.”
+
+“You are a good and unselfish boy, Grant,” said his mother.
+
+“I don't know about that, mother; I am consulting my own happiness
+as well as yours.”
+
+“Yet you would like to go to college?”
+
+“If we had plenty of money, not otherwise. I don't want to enjoy
+advantages at the expense of you all.”
+
+“Your Uncle Godfrey will be very angry,” said Mrs. Thornton,
+thoughtfully.
+
+“I suppose he will, and I shall be sorry for it. I am grateful to
+him for his good intentions toward me, and I have no right to expect
+that he will feel as I do about the matter. If he is angry, I shall
+be sorry, but I don't think it ought to influence me.”
+
+“You must do as you decide to be best, Grant. It is you who are most
+interested. But suppose you make up your mind to enter upon a
+business career, what chance have you of obtaining a place?”
+
+“I shall call upon Mr. Reynolds, and see if he has any place for
+me.”
+
+“Who is Mr. Reynolds?” asked his mother, in some surprise.
+
+“I forgot that I didn't tell you of the gentleman whose acquaintance
+I made on my way up to the city. He is a Wall Street broker. His
+attention was drawn to me by something that he heard, and he offered
+to help me, if he could, to get employment.”
+
+“It would cost something to go to New York, and after all there is
+no certainty that he could help you,” said Mrs. Thornton,
+cautiously.
+
+“That is true, mother, but I think he would do something for me.”
+
+However Grant received a summons to New York on other business. Mrs.
+Simpson, as she called herself, though she had no right to the name,
+was brought up for trial, and Grant was needed as a witness. Of
+course his expenses were to be paid. He resolved to take this
+opportunity to call at the office of Mr. Reynolds.
+
+I do not propose to speak of Mrs. Simpson's trial. I will merely say
+that she was found guilty of the charge upon which she had been
+indicted, and was sentenced to a term of imprisonment.
+
+When Grant was released from his duties as witness, he made his way
+to Wall Street, or rather New Street, which branches out from the
+great financial thoroughfare, and had no difficulty in finding the
+office of Mr. Reynolds.
+
+“Can I see Mr. Reynolds?” he asked of a young man, who was writing
+at a desk.
+
+“Have you come to deliver stock? If so, I will take charge of it.”
+
+“No,” answered Grant; “I wish to see him personally.”
+
+“He is at the Stock Exchange just at present. If you will take a
+seat, he will be back in twenty minutes, probably.”
+
+Grant sat down, and in less than the time mentioned, Mr. Reynolds
+entered the office. The broker, who had a good memory for faces, at
+once recognized our hero.
+
+“Ha, my young friend from the country,” he said; “would you like to
+see me?”
+
+“When you are at leisure, sir,” answered Grant, well pleased at the
+prompt recognition.
+
+“You will not have to wait long. Amuse yourself as well as you can
+for a few minutes.”
+
+Promptness was the rule in Mr. Reynolds' office. Another
+characteristic of the broker was, that he was just as polite to a
+boy as to his best customer. This is, I am quite aware, an unusual
+trait, and, therefore, the more to be appreciated when we meet with
+it.
+
+Presently Mr. Reynolds appeared at the door of his inner office, and
+beckoned to Grant to enter.
+
+“Take a seat, my young friend,” he said; “and now let me know what I
+can do for you.”
+
+“When I met you in the cars,” said Grant, “you invited me, if I ever
+wanted a position, to call upon you, and you would see if you could
+help me.”
+
+“Very true, I did. Have you made up your mind to seek a place?”
+
+“Yes, sir.”
+
+“Are your parents willing you should come to New York?”
+
+“Yes, sir. That is, my mother is willing, and my father will agree
+to whatever she decides to be best.”
+
+“So far so good. I wouldn't engage any boy who came against his
+parents' wishes. Now let me tell you that you have come at a very
+favorable time. I have had in my employ for two years the son of an
+old friend, who has suited me in every respect; but now he is to go
+abroad with his father for a year, and I must supply his place. You
+shall have the place if you want it.”
+
+“Nothing would suit me better,” said Grant, joyfully. “Do you think
+I would be competent to fulfill the duties?”
+
+“Harry Becker does not leave me for two weeks. He will initiate you
+into your duties, and if you are as quick as I think you are at
+learning, that will be sufficient.”
+
+“When shall I come, sir?”
+
+“Next Monday morning. It is now Thursday, and that will give you
+time to remove to the city.”
+
+“Perhaps I had better come Saturday, so as to get settled in a
+boarding-house before going to work. Could you recommend some
+moderate priced boarding-house, Mr. Reynolds?”
+
+“For the first week you may come to my house as my guest. That will
+give you a chance to look about you. I live at 58 West 3-th Street.
+You had better take it down on paper. You can come any time on
+Monday. That will give you a chance to spend Sunday at home, and you
+need not go to work till Tuesday.”
+
+Grant expressed his gratitude in suitable terms, and left the office
+elated at his good fortune. A surprise awaited him. At the junction
+of Wall and New Streets he came suddenly upon a large-sized
+bootblack, whose face looked familiar.
+
+“Tom Calder!” he exclaimed. “Is that you?”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX -- 'UNCLE GODFREY PARTS FROM GRANT
+
+
+
+When Tom Calder turned round and saw who had addressed him, he
+turned red with mortification, and he tried to hide his blacking
+box. He was terribly mortified to have it known that he had been
+forced into such a business. If Tom had nothing worse to be ashamed
+of he need not have blushed, but he was suffering from false shame.
+
+“When did you come to the city?” he stammered.
+
+“Only this morning.”
+
+“I suppose you are surprised to see me in this business,” said Tom,
+awkwardly.
+
+“There is nothing to be ashamed of,” said Grant. “It is an honest
+business.”
+
+“It's an awful come down for me,” said Tom, uncomfortably. “The fact
+is, I've had hard luck.”
+
+“I am sorry to hear that,” said Grant.
+
+“I expected a place in Wall Street, but I came just too late, and
+things are awful dull anyway. Then I was robbed of my money.”
+
+“How much?” asked Grant, curiously, for he didn't believe a word of
+it.
+
+“Eight dollars and thirty-three cents,” replied Tom, glibly.
+
+“I thought you were too smart to be robbed,” said Grant, slyly. “If
+it had been a green boy from the country like me, now, it wouldn't
+have been surprising.”
+
+“I was asleep when I was robbed,” explained Tom, hurriedly. “A
+fellow got into my room in the night, and picked my pocket. I
+couldn't help that, now, could I?”
+
+“I suppose not.”
+
+“So I had to get something to do, or go back to Colebrook. I say,
+Grant---”
+
+“Well?”
+
+“Don't you tell any of the fellers at home what business I'm in,
+that's a good fellow.”
+
+“I won't if you don't want me to,” said Grant.
+
+“You see, it's only a few days till I can get something else to do.”
+
+“It's a great deal better blacking boots than being idle, in my
+opinion,” said Grant.
+
+“That's the way I look at it. But you didn't tell me what you came
+to the city for?”
+
+“I'm coming here for good,” announced Grant.
+
+“You haven't got a place, have you?” ejaculated Tom, in surprise.
+
+“Yes, I am to enter the office of Mr. Reynolds, a stock broker.
+There is his sign.”
+
+“You don't say so I. Why, that's just the sort of place I wanted.
+How did you get the chance?”
+
+“I got acquainted with Mr. Reynolds on board the cars that day we
+came to New York together.”
+
+“And you asked him for the place?”
+
+“I asked him this morning.”
+
+“You might have given me the chance,” grumbled Tom, enviously. “You
+knew it was the sort of place I was after.”
+
+“I don't think I was called upon to do that,” said Grant, smiling.
+“Besides, he wouldn't have accepted you.”
+
+“Why not? Ain't I as smart as you, I'd like to know?” retorted Tom
+Calder, angrily.
+
+“He heard us talking in the cars, and didn't like what you said.”
+
+“What did I say?”
+
+“He doesn't approve of boys smoking cigarettes and going to bucket
+shops. You spoke of both.”
+
+“How did he hear?”
+
+“He was sitting just behind us.”
+
+“Was it that old chap that was sittin' with you when I came back
+from the smoking car?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Just my luck,” said Tom, ruefully.
+
+“When are you goin' to work?” asked Tom, after a pause.
+
+“Next Monday.”
+
+“Where are you going to board? We might take a room together, you
+know. It would be kind of social, as we both come from the same
+place.”
+
+It did not occur to Grant that the arrangement would suit him at
+all, but he did not think it necessary to say so. He only said: “I
+am going to Mr. Reynolds' house, just at first.”
+
+“You don't say so! Why, he's taken a regular fancy to you.”
+
+“If he has, I hope he won't get over it.”
+
+“I suppose he lives in a handsome brownstone house uptown.”
+
+“Very likely; I've never seen the house.”
+
+“Well, some folks has luck, but I ain't one of 'em,” grumbled Tom.
+
+“Your luck is coming, I hope, Tom.”
+
+“I wish it would come pretty soon, then; I say, suppose your folks
+won't let you take the place?” he asked, suddenly, brightening up.
+
+“They won't oppose it.” “I thought they wanted you to go to
+college.”
+
+“I can't afford it. It would take too long before I could earn
+anything, and I ought to be helping the family.”
+
+“I'm goin' to look out for number one,” said Tom, shrugging his
+shoulders. “That's all I can do.”
+
+Tom's mother was a hard-working woman, and had taken in washing for
+years. But for her the family would often have lacked for food. His
+father was a lazy, intemperate man, who had no pride of manhood, and
+cared only for himself. In this respect Tom was like him, though the
+son had not as yet become intemperate.
+
+“I don't think there is any chance of my giving up the place,”
+ answered Grant. “If I do, I will mention your name.”
+
+“That's a good fellow.”
+
+Grant did not volunteer to recommend Tom, for he could not have done
+so with a clear conscience. This omission, however, Tom did not
+notice.
+
+“Well, Tom, I must be going. Good-by, and good luck.”
+
+Grant went home with a cheerful face, and announced his good luck to
+his mother.
+
+“I am glad you are going to your employer's house,” she said. “I
+wish you could remain there permanently.”
+
+“So do I, mother; but I hope at any rate to get a comfortable
+boarding place. Tom Calder wants to room with me.”
+
+“I hope you won't think of it,” said Mrs. Thornton, alarmed.
+
+“Not for a moment. I wish Tom well, but I shouldn't like to be too
+intimate with him. And now, mother, I think I ought to write to
+Uncle Godfrey, and tell him what I have decided upon.”
+
+“That will be proper, Grant.” Grant wrote the following letter, and
+mailed it at once:
+
+“DEAR UNCLE GODFREY:
+
+I am afraid you won't like what I have to tell you, but I think it
+is my duty to the family to give up the college course you so kindly
+offered me, in view of father's small salary and narrow means. I
+have been offered a place in the office of a stock broker in New
+York, and have accepted it. I enter upon my duties next Monday
+morning. I hope to come near paying my own way, and before very long
+to help father. I know you will be disappointed, Uncle Godfrey, and
+I hope you won't think I don't appreciate your kind offer, but I
+think it would be selfish in me to accept it. Please do forgive me,
+and believe me to be
+
+Your affectionate nephew, GRANT THORNTON.”
+
+In twenty-four hours an answer came to this letter. It ran thus:
+
+“NEPHEW GRANT:
+
+I would not have believed you would act so foolishly and
+ungratefully. It is not often that such an offer as mine is made to
+a boy. I did think you were sensible enough to understand the
+advantages of a professional education. I hoped you would do credit
+to the name of Thornton, and keep up the family reputation as a man
+of learning and a gentleman. But you have a foolish fancy for going
+into a broker's office, and I suppose you must be gratified. But you
+needn't think I will renew my offer. I wash my hands of you from
+this time forth, and leave you to your own foolish course. The time
+will come when you will see your folly.
+
+GODFREY THORNTON.”
+
+Grant sighed as he finished reading this missive. He felt that his
+uncle had done him injustice. It was no foolish fancy, but a
+conscientious sense of duty, which had led him to sacrifice his
+educational prospects.
+
+On Monday morning he took the earliest train for New York.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X -- A DAY IN WALL STREET
+
+
+
+Grant went at once on his arrival in the city to Mr. Reynolds'
+office. He had in his hand a well-worn valise containing his small
+stock of clothing. The broker was just leaving the office for the
+Stock Exchange as Grant entered.
+
+“So you are punctual,” he said, smiling.
+
+“Yes, sir, I always on time.”
+
+“That is an excellent habit. Here, Harry.”
+
+In answer to this summons, Harry Becker, a boy two years older and
+correspondingly larger than Grant, came forward. He was a
+pleasant-looking boy, and surveyed Grant with a friendly glance.
+
+“Harry,” said Mr. Reynolds, “this is your successor. Do me the favor
+of initiating him into his duties, so that when you leave me he will
+be qualified to take your place.”
+
+“All right, sir.”
+
+The broker hurried over to the Exchange, and the two boys were left
+together.
+
+“What is your name?” asked the city boy.
+
+“Grant Thornton.”
+
+“Mine is Harry Becker. Are you accustomed to the city?”
+
+“No, I am afraid you will find me very green,” answered Grant.
+
+“You are not the boy to remain so long,” said Harry, scrutinizing
+him attentively.
+
+“I hope not. You are going to Europe, Mr. Reynolds tells me.”
+
+“Yes, the governor is going to take me.”
+
+“The governor?”
+
+“My father, I mean,” said Harry, smiling.
+
+“I suppose you are not sorry to go?”
+
+“Oh, no; I expect to have a tip-top time. How would you like it?”
+
+“Very much, if I could afford it, but at present I would rather fill
+your place in the office. I am the son of a poor country minister,
+and must earn my own living.”
+
+“How did you get in with Mr. Reynolds?” asked Harry.
+
+Grant told him. “Is he easy to get along with?” he inquired, a
+little anxiously.
+
+“He is very kind and considerate. Still he is stanch, and expects a
+boy to serve him faithfully.”
+
+“He has a right to expect that.”
+
+“As I am to break you in, you had better go about with me
+everywhere. First, we will go to the post-office.”
+
+The two boys walked to Nassau Street, where the New York post-office
+was then located. Harry pointed out the box belonging to the firm,
+and producing a key opened it, and took out half a dozen letters.
+
+“There may be some stock orders in these letters,” he said; “we will
+go back to the office, give them to Mr. Clark to open, and then you
+can go with me to the Stock Exchange.”
+
+Ten minutes later they entered the large room used by the brokers as
+an Exchange. Grant looked about him in undisguised astonishment. It
+seemed like a pandemonium. The room was full of men, shouting,
+gesticulating and acting like crazy men. The floor was littered with
+fragments of paper, and on a raised dais were the officers of the
+Exchange, the chief among them, the chairman, calling rapidly the
+names of a long list of stocks. Each name was followed by a confused
+shouting, which Grant learned afterward to be bids for the stock
+named. There were several groups of brokers, each apparently
+interested in some leading security. In each of the galleries, one
+at each end, overlooking the stock room, curious spectators were
+watching what was going on.
+
+Harry Decker was amused at Grant's look of surprise and
+bewilderment.
+
+“You'll get used to it in time,” he said. “Say--there is Mr.
+Reynolds. I must speak to him.”
+
+Mr. Reynolds stood near a placard on which, in prominent letters,
+was inscribed “Erie.” Harry handed him a paper, which he took,
+glanced at quickly, and then resumed his bidding.
+
+“He has just bought one thousand Erie,” said Harry, aside, to Grant.
+
+“One thousand?”
+
+“Yes, a thousand shares, at fifty-five.”
+
+“Fifty-five dollars?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Why, that will make fifty-five thousand dollars,” ejaculated Grant,
+in wonder.
+
+“Yes, that is one of the orders I brought over just now.”
+
+“A man must have a great deal of capital to carry on this business,
+if that is only an item of a single day's business.”
+
+“Yes, but not so much as you may imagine. I can't explain now, but
+you'll understand better as you go on. Now we'll go back and see if
+there's anything to do in the office.”
+
+Not long afterward Harry had to come back to the Exchange again, and
+Grant came with him. He found something new to surprise him.
+
+A tall man of dignified presence was walking across the floor, when
+a fellow member with a sly stroke sent his tall hat spinning across
+the floor. When the victim turned the mischief-maker was intent upon
+his memorandum book, and the tall man's suspicions fell upon a
+short, stout young man beside him. With a vigorous sweep he knocked
+the young man's hat off, saying, “It's a poor rule that don't work
+both ways.”
+
+This led to a little scrimmage, in which a dozen were involved. The
+brokers, staid, middle-aged men, most of them, seemed like a pack of
+school boys at recess. Grant surveyed the scene with undisguised
+astonishment.
+
+“What does it mean, Harry?” he asked.
+
+“Oh, that's a very common occurrence,” said Harry, smiling.
+
+“I never saw grown men acting so. Won't there be a fight?”
+
+“Oh, it's all fun. The brokers are unlike any other class of men in
+business hours,” explained Harry. “It's one of the customs of the
+place.”
+
+Just then, to his astonishment, Grant saw his employer, Mr.
+Reynolds, pursuing his hat, which was rolling over the floor. He was
+about to run to his assistance, but Harry stopped him.
+
+“No interference is allowed,” he said. “Leave them to their fun. I
+used to think it strange myself, when I first came into the
+Exchange, but I'm used to it now. Now we may as well go back to the
+office.”
+
+There is no occasion to follow the boys through the day's routine.
+Grant found his companion very obliging, and very ready to give him
+the information he needed. Many boys would have been supercilious
+and perhaps been disposed to play tricks on a country boy, but Harry
+was not one of them. He took a friendly interest in Grant, answered
+all his questions, and did his best to qualify him for the position
+he was to assume.
+
+Before the office closed, Grant and his new friend went to the bank
+to make a deposit of money and checks. The deposit amounted to about
+twenty thousand dollars.
+
+“There must be plenty of money in New York,” said Grant. “Why, up in
+Colebrook, if a man were worth twenty thousand dollars he would be
+considered a rich man.”
+
+“It takes a good deal more than that to make a man rich in New York.
+In the stock business a man is likely to do a larger business in
+proportion to his capital than in the mercantile business.”
+
+On their way back from the bank, Grant came face to face with Tom
+Calder. Tom was busily engaged in talking to a companion, some years
+older than himself, and didn't observe Grant. Grant was by no means
+prepossessed in favor of this young man, whose red and mottled face,
+and bold glance made him look far from respectable.
+
+“Do you know those fellows?” asked Harry Becker.
+
+“The youngest one is from Colebrook.”
+
+“He is in bad company. I hope he is not an intimate friend of
+yours?”
+
+“Far from it. Still, I know him, and am sorry to see him with such a
+companion.”
+
+At four o'clock Mr. Reynolds proposed to go home. He beckoned to
+Grant to accompany him.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI -- GRANT MAKES A FRIEND
+
+
+
+“What do you think of your first day in Wall Street?” asked Mr.
+Reynolds, kindly.
+
+“I have found it very interesting,” answered Grant.
+
+“Do you think you shall like the business?”
+
+“Yes, sir, I think so.”
+
+“Better than if you had been able to carry out your original plan,
+and go to college?”
+
+“Yes, sir, under the circumstances, for I have a better prospect of
+helping the family.”
+
+“That feeling does you credit. Have you any brothers and sisters?”
+
+“One of each, sir.”
+
+“I have but one boy, now nine years old. I am sorry to say he is not
+strong in body, though very bright and quick, mentally. I wish he
+were more fond of play and would spend less time in reading and
+study.”
+
+“I don't think that is a common complaint among boys, sir.”
+
+“No, I judge not from my own remembrance and observation. My wife is
+dead, and I am such a busy man that I am not able to give my boy as
+much attention as I wish I could. My boy's health is the more
+important to me because I have no other child.”
+
+Grant's interest was excited, and he looked forward to meeting his
+employer's son, not without eagerness. He had not long to wait.
+
+The little fellow was in the street in front of the house when his
+father reached home. He was a slender, old-fashioned boy in
+appearance, who looked as if he had been in the habit of keeping
+company with grown people. His frame was small, but his head was
+large. He was pale, and would have been plain, but for a pair of
+large, dark eyes, lighting up his face.
+
+“Welcome home, papa,” he said, running up to meet Mr. Reynolds.
+
+The broker stooped over and kissed his son. Then he said: “I have
+brought you some company, Herbert. This is Grant Thornton, the boy I
+spoke to you about.”
+
+“I am glad to make your acquaintance,” said the boy, with
+old-fashioned courtesy, offering his hand.
+
+“And I am glad to meet you, Herbert,” responded Grant, pleasantly.
+
+The little boy looked up earnestly in the face of his father's
+office boy.
+
+“I think I shall like you,” he said.
+
+Mr. Reynolds looked pleased, and so did Grant.
+
+“I am sure we shall be very good friends,” said our hero.
+
+“Herbert,” said his father, “will you show Grant the room he is to
+occupy?”
+
+“It is next to mine, isn't it, papa?”
+
+“Yes, my son.”
+
+“Come with me,” said Herbert, putting his hand in Grant's. “I will
+show you the way.”
+
+Grant, who was only accustomed to the plain homes in his native
+village, was impressed by the evidence of wealth and luxury
+observable in the house of the stock broker. The room assigned to
+him was small, but it was very handsomely furnished, and he almost
+felt out of place in it. But it was not many days, to anticipate
+matters a little, before he felt at home.
+
+Herbert took Grant afterward into his own room.
+
+“See my books,” he said, leading the way to a bookcase, containing
+perhaps a hundred volumes, the majority of a juvenile character, but
+some suited to more mature tastes. “Do you like reading?” asked
+Grant.
+
+“I have read all the books you see here,” answered Herbert, “and
+some of papa's besides. I like to read better than to play.”
+
+“But you ought to spend some of your time in play, or you will not
+grow up healthy.”
+
+“That is what papa says. I try to play some, but I don't care much
+about it.”
+
+Grant was no longer surprised at the little boy's delicacy. It was
+clear that he needed more amusement and more exercise. “Perhaps,” he
+thought, “I can induce Herbert to exercise more.”
+
+“When do you take dinner?” he asked.
+
+“At half-past six. There is plenty of time.”
+
+“Then suppose we take a little walk together. We shall both have a
+better appetite.”
+
+“I should like to,” replied Herbert; “that is, with you. I don't
+like to walk alone.”
+
+“How far is Central Park from here?”
+
+“A little over a mile.”
+
+“I have never seen it. Would you mind walking as far as that?”
+
+“Oh, no.”
+
+So the two boys walked out together. They were soon engaged in an
+animated conversation, consisting, for the most part, of questions
+proposed by Grant, and answers given by Herbert.
+
+Not far from the park they came to a vacant lot where some boys were
+playing ball.
+
+“Now, if we only had a ball, Herbert,” said Grant, “we might have a
+little amusement.”
+
+“I've got a ball in my pocket, but I don't use it much.”
+
+“Let me see it.”
+
+Herbert produced the ball, which proved to be an expensive one,
+better than any Grant had ever owned.
+
+“There, Herbert, stand here, and I will place myself about fifty
+feet away. Now, throw it to me, no matter how swiftly.”
+
+They were soon engaged in throwing the ball to each other. Grant was
+a good ball player, and he soon interested the little boy in the
+sport. Our hero was pleased to see Herbert's quiet, listless manner
+exchanged for the animation which seemed better suited to a boy.
+
+“You are improving, Herbert,” he said, after a while. “You would
+make a good player in time.”
+
+“I never liked it before,” said the little boy. “I never knew there
+was so much fun in playing ball.”
+
+“We shall have to try it every day. I suppose it is about time to go
+home to supper.”
+
+“And we haven't been to Central Park, after all.”
+
+“That will do for another day. Are boys allowed to play ball in the
+park?”
+
+“Two afternoons in the week, I believe, but I never played there.”
+
+“We shall have to try it some day.”
+
+“I should like to play--with you.”
+
+They reached home in full time for dinner. At the dinner table Mr.
+Reynolds was struck by the unusually bright and animated face of his
+son, and his good appetite.
+
+“What have you been doing to make you so hungry, Herbert?” he asked.
+
+“I took a walk with Grant, and we had a fine game of ball.”
+
+“I am glad to hear it,” said the broker, much pleased. “If you want
+to become stout and strong like Grant, that is the best thing for
+you to do.”
+
+“I never liked playing ball before, papa.”
+
+“That is a compliment to you, Grant,” said the broker, smiling.
+
+“I think,” he said to the prim, elderly lady who presided over the
+household, acting as housekeeper, “Herbert will be the better for
+having a boy in the house.”
+
+“I don't know about that,” said Mrs. Estabrook, stiffly. “When he
+came into the house he had mud on his clothes. He never did that
+till this boy came.”
+
+“I won't complain of that, if his health is improved.”
+
+Mrs. Estabrook, who was a poor relation of Herbert's mother, pursed
+up her mouth, but did not reply. In her eyes, it was more important
+that a boy should keep his clothes whole and clean than to have
+color in his cheeks, and health in his frame.
+
+“I hope that boy won't stay here long,” she thought, referring, of
+course, to Grant. “He'll quite spoil Herbert by making him rough and
+careless of his appearance.”
+
+“Well, Herbert, and how do you like Grant?” asked Mr. Reynolds, as
+his son was bidding him good-night before going to bed.
+
+“I am so glad you brought him here, papa. I shall have good times
+now. You'll let him stay all the time, won't you?”
+
+“I'll see about it, Herbert,” answered his father, smiling.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII -- MRS. ESTABROOK'S PLANS
+
+
+
+Grant was going home with Mr. Reynolds at the close of the fourth
+day, when it occurred to him to say what had been in his mind for
+some time: “Isn't it time, Mr. Reynolds, for me to be looking out
+for a boarding place?”
+
+The broker smiled, and said with assumed concern: “Are you
+dissatisfied with your present boarding place?”
+
+“How could I be, sir?” returned Grant, earnestly. “But you told me I
+could stay with you a week, while I was looking about for a suitable
+place to board.”
+
+“That is true. Now, however, there is a difficulty about your making
+a change.”
+
+“What is that, sir?”
+
+“Herbert would not give his consent. The fact is, Grant, Herbert
+finds so much pleasure in your society, and derives so much
+advantage from the increased exercise you lead him to take, that I
+think you will have to make up your mind to stay.”
+
+Grant's face showed the pleasure he felt.
+
+“I shall be very glad to stay, Mr. Reynolds,” he answered, “if you
+are willing to have me.”
+
+“I had this in view from the first,” said the broker, “but I wanted
+to see how you and Herbert got along. I wished to be sure, also,
+that your influence on him would be good. Of that I can have no
+doubt, and I am glad to receive you as a member of my family.”
+
+There was one member of the household, however, who was not so well
+pleased with the proposed arrangement. This was Mrs. Estabrook, the
+housekeeper.
+
+As the week drew to a close, she said, one evening after the boys
+had retired:
+
+“How much longer is the office boy to stay here, Mr. Reynolds?”
+
+“Why do you ask?” inquired the broker.
+
+“Only with reference to domestic arrangements,” answered the
+housekeeper, disconcerted.
+
+“He will remain for a considerable time, Mrs. Estabrook.”
+
+“I--I thought he was only going to stay a week.”
+
+“He is company for Herbert, and I think it desirable to keep him.”
+
+“Herbert soils his clothes a deal more now than he used to do,” said
+the housekeeper, discontentedly. “I am sure I don't know where the
+other boy carries him.”
+
+“Nor I, but I am not afraid to trust him with Grant. As to the
+clothes, I consider them of very small account, compared with my
+boy's health.”
+
+Mrs. Estabrook knitted in silence for five minutes. She was by no
+means pleased with her employer's plan, having taken a dislike to
+Grant, for which, indeed, her chief reason was jealousy. She had a
+stepson, a young man of twenty-one, in Mr. Reynolds' office, whom
+she would like to have in the house in place of Grant. But Mr.
+Reynolds had never taken notice of her occasional hints to that
+effect. The housekeeper's plans were far-reaching. She knew that
+Herbert was delicate, and doubted if he would live to grow up. In
+that case, supposing her stepson had managed to ingratiate himself
+with the broker, why might he not hope to become his heir? Now this
+interloper, as she called Grant, had stepped into the place which
+her own favorite--his name was Willis Ford--should have had. Mrs.
+Estabrook felt aggrieved, and unjustly treated, and naturally
+incensed at Grant, who was the unconscious cause of her
+disappointment. She returned to the charge, though, had she been
+wiser, she would have foreborne.
+
+“Do you think a poor boy like this Grant Thornton is a suitable
+companion for a rich man's son, Mr. Reynolds? Excuse me for
+suggesting it, but I am so interested in dear Herbert.”
+
+“Grant Thornton is the son of a country minister, and has had an
+excellent training,” said the broker, coldly. “The fact that he is
+poor is no objection in my eyes. I think, Mrs. Estabrook, we will
+dismiss the subject. I think myself competent to choose my son's
+associates.”
+
+“I hope you will excuse me,” said the housekeeper, seeing that she
+had gone too far. “I am so attached to the dear child.”
+
+“If you are, you will not object to the extra trouble you may have
+with his clothes, since his health is benefited.”
+
+“That artful young beggar has wound his way into his employer's
+confidence,” thought Mrs. Estabrook, resentfully, “but it may not be
+always so.”
+
+A few minutes later, when the housekeeper was in her own
+sitting-room, she was told that Willis Ford wanted to see her.
+
+Mrs. Estabrook's thin face lighted up with pleasure, for she was
+devotedly attached to her stepson.
+
+“Bring him up here at once,” she said.
+
+A minute later the young man entered the room. He was a thin,
+sallow-complexioned young man, with restless, black eyes, and a
+discontented expression--as of one who thinks he is not well used by
+the world.
+
+“Welcome, my dear boy,” said the housekeeper, warmly. “I am so glad
+to see you.”
+
+Willis submitted reluctantly to his stepmother's caress, and threw
+himself into a rocking chair opposite her.
+
+“Are you well, Willis?” asked Mrs. Estabrook, anxiously.
+
+“Yes, I'm well enough,” muttered the young man.
+
+“I thought you looked out of sorts.”
+
+“I feel so.”
+
+“Is anything the matter?”
+
+“Yes; I'm sick of working at such starvation wages.”
+
+“I thought fifteen dollars a week a very good salary. Only last
+January you were raised three dollars.”
+
+“And I expected to be raised three dollars more on the first of
+July.”
+
+“Did you apply to Mr. Reynolds?”
+
+“Yes, and he told me I must wait till next January.”
+
+“I think he might have raised you, if only on account of the
+connection between our families.”
+
+“Perhaps he would if you would ask him, mother.”
+
+“I will when there is a good opportunity. Still, Willis, I think
+fifteen dollars a week very comfortable.”
+
+“You don't know a young man's expenses, mother.”
+
+“How much do you pay for board, Willis?”
+
+“Six dollars a week. I have a room with a friend, or I should have
+to pay eight.”
+
+“That leaves you nine dollars a week for all other expenses. I think
+you might save something out of that.”
+
+“I can't. I have clothes to buy, and sometimes I want to go to the
+theatre, and in fact, nine dollars don't go as far as you think. Of
+course, a woman doesn't need to spend much. It's different with a
+young man.”
+
+“Your income would be a good deal increased if you had no board to
+pay.”
+
+“Of course. You don't know any generous minded person who will board
+me for nothing, do you?”
+
+“There's a new office boy in your office, isn't there?”
+
+“Yes, a country boy.”
+
+“Did you know he was boarding here?”
+
+“No; is he?”
+
+“Mr. Reynolds told me to-night he was going to keep him here
+permanently, as a companion for his little son.”
+
+“Lucky for him.”
+
+“I wish Mr. Reynolds would give you a home here.”
+
+“I would rather he would make it up in money, and let me board where
+I please.”
+
+“But you forget. It would give you a chance to get him interested in
+you, and if Herbert should die, you might take his place as heir.”
+
+“That would be a splendid idea, but there's no prospect of it. It
+isn't for me.”
+
+“It may be for the office boy. He's an artful boy, and that's what
+he's working for, in my opinion.”
+
+“I didn't think the little beggar was so evil-headed. He seems quiet
+enough.”
+
+“Still waters run deep. You'd better keep an eye on him, and I'll do
+the same.”
+
+“I will.”
+
+The next day Grant was puzzled to understand why Willis Ford spoke
+so sharply to him, and regarded him with such evident unfriendliness.
+
+“What have I done to offend you?” he thought.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII -- TWO VIEWS OF TOM CALDER
+
+
+
+Thus far nothing had been said about the compensation Grant was to
+receive for his work in the broker's office. He did not like to ask,
+especially as he knew that at the end of the first week the matter
+would be settled. When he found that he was to remain for the
+present at the house of his employer he concluded that his cash pay
+would be very small, perhaps a dollar a week. However, that would be
+doing quite as well as if he paid his own board elsewhere, while he
+enjoyed a much more agreeable and luxurious home. He would be unable
+to assist his father for a year or two; but that was only what he
+had a right to expect.
+
+When Saturday afternoon came, Mr. Reynolds said: “By the way, Grant,
+I must pay you your week's wages. I believe no sum was agreed upon.”
+
+“No, sir.”
+
+“We will call it six dollars. Will that be satisfactory?”
+
+“Very much so, Mr. Reynolds; but there will be a deduction for
+board.”
+
+Mr. Reynolds smiled.
+
+“That is a different matter,” he said. “That comes to you as
+Herbert's companion. It is worth that to me to have my boy's
+happiness increased.”
+
+Grant was overjoyed at the bright prospect opened before him, and he
+said, with glowing face: “You are very kind, Mr. Reynolds. Now I
+shall be able to help my father.”
+
+“That is very creditable to you, my boy. Willis, you may pay Grant
+six dollars.”
+
+Willis Ford did so, but he looked very glum. He estimated that,
+including his board, Grant would be in receipt of twelve dollars a
+week, or its equivalent, and this was only three dollars less than
+he himself received, who had been in the office five years and was a
+connection of the broker.
+
+“It's a shame,” he thought, “that this green, country boy should be
+paid nearly as much as I--I must call and tell mother.”
+
+Grant was a very happy boy that evening. He resolved to lay aside
+three dollars a week to send to his mother, to save up a dollar a
+week and deposit it in some savings bank, and make the other two
+dollars answer for his clothing and miscellaneous expenses.
+
+On the next Monday afternoon Grant walked home alone, Mr. Reynolds
+having some business which delayed him. He thought he would walk up
+Broadway, as there was much in that crowded thoroughfare to amuse
+and interest him.
+
+Just at the corner of Canal Street he came across Tom Calder. Tom
+was standing in a listless attitude with his hands in his pockets,
+with apparently no business cares weighing upon his mind.
+
+“Hello, Grant!” he said, with sudden recognition.
+
+“How are you, Tom?”
+
+“I'm all right, but I'm rather hard up.”
+
+Grant was not surprised to hear that.
+
+“You see, there's a feller owes me seven dollars, and I can't get it
+till next week,” continued Tom, watching Grant's face to see if he
+believed it.
+
+Grant did not believe it, but did not think it necessary to say so.
+
+“That's inconvenient,” he remarked.
+
+“I should say it was. You couldn't lend me a couple of dollars,
+could you?”
+
+“I don't think I could.”
+
+Tom looked disappointed.
+
+“How much do you get?” he asked.
+
+“Six dollars a week.”
+
+“That's pretty good, for a boy like you. I wish you'd take a room
+with me. It would come cheaper.”
+
+“I shall stay where I am for the present,” said Grant.
+
+He did not care to mention, unless he were asked, that he was making
+his home at the house of Mr. Reynolds, as it might either lead to a
+call from Tom, whom he did not particularly care to introduce to his
+new friends, or might lead to a more pressing request for a loan.
+
+“Where are you boarding?” asked Grant, after a pause.
+
+“In Clinton Place. I have a room there, and get my meals where I
+like. There's a chap from your office that lives in the same house.”
+
+“Who is it?” asked Grant, anxiously.
+
+“It's Willis Ford.”
+
+“Is that so?” returned Grant, in surprise. “Do you know him?”
+
+“Only a little. I don't like him. He's too stuck up.”
+
+Grant made no comment, but in his heart he agreed with Tom.
+
+“Are you doing anything?” he asked.
+
+“Not just yet,” answered Tom, “I expect a good job soon. You haven't
+a quarter to spare, have you?” Grant produced the desired sum and
+handed it to his companion. He didn't fancy Tom, but he was willing
+to help him in a small way.
+
+“Thanks,” said Tom. “That'll buy my supper. I'll give it back to you
+in a day or two.”
+
+Grant did not think there was much likelihood of that, but felt that
+he could afford to lose this small sum.
+
+Four days later he met Tom in Wall Street. But what a change! He was
+attired in a new suit, wore a fancy necktie, while a chain, that
+looked like gold, dangled from his watch pocket. Grant stared at him
+in amazement.
+
+“How are you, Grant?” said Tom, patronizingly.
+
+“Very well, thank you.”
+
+“I hope you are a-doin' well.”
+
+“Very well. You seem to be prosperous.”
+
+“Yes,” answered Tom, languidly, evidently enjoying his surprise. “I
+told you I expected to get into something good. By the way, I owe
+you a quarter--there it is. Much obliged for the accommodation.”
+
+Grant pocketed the coin, which he had never expected to receive, and
+continued to regard Tom with puzzled surprise. He could not
+understand what business Tom could have found that had so altered
+his circumstances. He ventured to inquire.
+
+“I wouldn't mind tellin' you,” answered Tom, “but, you see, it's
+kind of confidential. I'm a confidential agent; that's it.”
+
+“It seems to be a pretty good business,” remarked Grant.
+
+“Yes, it is; I don't work for nothin', I can tell you that.”
+
+“I'm glad of your good luck, Tom,” said Grant, and he spoke
+sincerely. “I hope you'll keep your agency.”
+
+“Oh, I guess I will! A feller like me is pretty sure of a good
+livin', anyway. Hello, Jim!”
+
+This last was addressed to a flashily dressed individual--the same
+one, in fact, that Grant had seen on a former occasion with Tom.
+
+“Who's your friend?” asked Jim, with a glance at Grant.
+
+“Grant Thornton. He's from my place in the country. He's in the
+office of Mr. Reynolds, a broker in New Street.”
+
+“Introduce me.”
+
+“Grant, let me make you acquainted with my friend, Jim Morrison,”
+ said Tom, with a flourish.
+
+“Glad to make your acquaintance, Mr. Thornton,” said Jim Morrison,
+jauntily, offering his hand.
+
+“Thank you,” said Grant, in a reserved tone; for he was not
+especially attracted by the look of Tom's friend. He shook hands,
+however.
+
+“Come 'round and see us some evenin', Grant,” said Tom. “We'll take
+you round, won't we, Jim?”
+
+“Of course we will. Your friend should see something of the city.”
+
+“You're the feller that can show him. Well, we must be goin'. It's
+lunch time.”
+
+Tom pulled out a watch, which, if not gold, was of the same color as
+gold, and the two sauntered away.
+
+“What in the world can Tom have found to do?” Grant wondered.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV -- WILLIS FORD'S NEW FRIENDS
+
+
+
+When Harry Decker left the office at the end of two weeks, Grant was
+fully able to take his place, having, with Harry's friendly
+assistance, completely mastered the usual routine of a broker's
+office. He had also learned the names and offices of prominent
+operators, and was, in all respects, qualified to be of service to
+his employer.
+
+Mr. Reynolds always treated him with friendly consideration, and
+appeared to have perfect confidence in him. For some reason which he
+could not understand, however, Willis Ford was far from cordial,
+often addressing him in a fault-finding tone, which at first
+disturbed Grant. When he found that it arose from Ford's dislike, he
+ceased to trouble himself about it, though it annoyed him. He had
+discovered Ford's relationship to Mrs. Estabrook, who treated him in
+the same cool manner.
+
+“As it appears I can't please them,” Grant said to himself, “I won't
+make any special effort to do so.” He contented himself with doing
+his work faithfully, and so satisfying his own conscience.
+
+One evening some weeks later, Grant was returning from a concert, to
+which the broker had given him a ticket, when, to his great
+surprise, he met Willis Ford walking with Tom Calder and Jim
+Morrison. The three were apparently on intimate terms.
+
+“Good-evenin', Grant,” said Tom.
+
+“Good-evening, Tom.”
+
+Grant looked at Willis Ford, but the latter's lip curled and he did
+not speak. Grant, however, bowed and passed on. He was surprised at
+the intimacy which had grown up between Ford and those two, knowing
+Ford's spirit of exclusiveness. He would have been less surprised
+had he known that Morrison had first ingratiated himself with Ford
+by offering to lend him money, and afterward had lured him into a
+gambling house, where Ford, not knowing that he was a dupe, had been
+induced to play, and was now a loser to the extent of several
+hundred dollars, for which Morrison held his notes.
+
+“I don't know when I can pay you,” said Ford, gloomily, when he came
+to realize his situation.
+
+“Oh, something will turn up.” said Jim Morrison, lightly. “I shan't
+trouble you.”
+
+Two weeks later, however, he lay in wait for Ford when he left Wall
+Street.
+
+“I want to speak to you a moment, Mr. Ford,” he said.
+
+“Well, what is it?” asked Ford, uncomfortably.
+
+“I am hard up.”
+
+“So am I,” responded Willis Ford.
+
+“But you owe me a matter of six hundred dollars.”
+
+“I know it, but you said you wouldn't trouble me.”
+
+“I didn't expect I should be obliged to,” said Morrison, smoothly.
+“But 'Circumstances alter cases,' you know. I shall have to ask you
+for it.”
+
+“That's all the good it will do,” said Willis, irritably. “I haven't
+a cent to my name.”
+
+“When do you expect to have?”
+
+“Heaven knows; I don't.”
+
+Ford was about to leave his companion and walk away, but Morrison
+had no intention of allowing the matter to end so. He laid his hand
+on Ford's shoulder and said, firmly: “Mr. Ford, this won't do. Yours
+is a debt of honor, and must be paid.”
+
+“Will you be kind enough to let me know how it is to be paid?”
+ demanded Ford, with an ugly sneer.
+
+“That is your business, not mine, Mr. Ford.”
+
+“Then, if it is my business, I'll give you notice when I can pay
+you. And now, good-afternoon.”
+
+He made another attempt to walk away, but again there was a hand
+placed upon his shoulder.
+
+“Understand, Mr. Ford, that I am in earnest,” said Morrison. “I
+can't undertake to tell you how you are to find the money, but it
+must be found.”
+
+“Suppose it isn't?” said Ford, with a look of defiance.
+
+“Then I shall seek an interview with your respected employer, tell
+him of the debt, and how it was incurred, and I think he would look
+for another clerk.”
+
+“You wouldn't do that!” said Ford, his face betraying consternation.
+
+“I would, and I will, unless you pay what you owe me.”
+
+“But, man, how am I to do it? You will drive me to desperation.”
+
+“Take three days to think of it. If you can't raise it, I may
+suggest a way.”
+
+The two parted, and Willis Ford was left to many uncomfortable
+reflections. He knew of no way to raise the money; yet, if he did
+not do it, he was menaced with exposure and ruin. Would his
+stepmother come to his assistance? He knew that Mrs. Estabrook had a
+thousand dollars in government bonds. If he could only induce her to
+give him the custody of them on any pretext, he could meet the
+demand upon him, and he would never again incur a debt of honor. He
+cursed his folly for ever yielding to the temptation. Once let him
+get out of this scrape, and he would never get into another like it.
+
+The next evening he made a call upon Mrs. Estabrook, and made
+himself unusually agreeable. The cold-hearted woman, whose heart
+warmed to him alone, smiled upon him with affection.
+
+“I am glad to see you in such good spirits, Willis,” she said.
+
+“If she only knew how I really felt,” thought her stepson. But it
+was for his interest to wear a mask.
+
+“The fact is, mother,” he said, “I feel very cheerful. I've made a
+little turn in stocks, and realized three hundred dollars.”
+
+“Have you, indeed, Willis? I congratulate you, my son. No doubt you
+will find the money useful.”
+
+“No doubt of that. If I had the capital, I could make a good deal
+more.”
+
+“But there would be the danger of losing,” suggested Mrs. Estabrook.
+
+“That danger is very small, mother. I am in a situation to know all
+about the course of stocks. I wouldn't advise another to speculate,
+unless he has some friend in the Stock Exchange; but for me it is
+perfectly safe.”
+
+“Pray be careful, Willis.”
+
+“Oh, yes. I am sure to be. By the way, mother, haven't you got some
+money in government bonds?”
+
+“A little,” answered Mrs. Estabrook, cautiously.
+
+“How much, now?”
+
+“About a thousand dollars.”
+
+“Let me manage it for you, and I will make it two thousand inside of
+a month.”
+
+Mrs. Estabrook had a large share of acquisitiveness, but she had
+also a large measure of caution, which she had inherited from her
+Scotch ancestry.
+
+“No, Willis,” she said, shaking her head, “I can't take any risk.
+This money it has taken me years to save. It is the sole dependence
+I have for my old age, and I can't run the risk of losing it.”
+
+“But two thousand dollars will be better than one, mother. Just let
+me tell you what happened to a customer of ours: He had above five
+hundred dollars in the savings bank, drawing four per cent
+interest--only twenty dollars a year. He had a friend in the Stock
+Exchange who took charge of it, bought stocks judiciously on a
+margin, then reinvested, and now, after three months, how much do
+you think it amounts to?”
+
+“How much?” asked the housekeeper, with interest.
+
+“Six thousand five hundred dollars--just thirteen times as much!”
+ answered Willis, glibly.
+
+This story, by the way, was all a fabrication, intended to influence
+his stepmother. Mrs. Estabrook never doubted Ford's statement, but
+her instinctive caution saved her from falling into the trap.
+
+“It looks tempting, Willis,” she said, “but I don't dare to take the
+risk.” Ford was deeply disappointed, but did not betray it.
+
+“It is for you to decide,” said he, carelessly, then drifted to
+other subjects.
+
+Ten minutes later he pressed his hand upon his breast, while his
+features worked convulsively. “I believe I am sick,” he said.
+
+“What can I do for you, my dear son?” asked the housekeeper, in
+alarm.
+
+“If you have a glass of brandy!” gasped Willis.
+
+“I will go downstairs and get some,” she said, hurriedly.
+
+No sooner had she left the room than Willis sprang to his feet,
+locked the door, then went to the bureau, unlocked the upper
+drawer--he had a key in his pocket which fitted the lock and,
+thrusting in his hand, drew out a long envelope containing one
+five-hundred-dollar government bond and five bonds of one hundred
+dollars each, which he thrust into his side pocket. Then, closing
+the drawer, he unlocked the door of the room, and when his
+step-mother returned he threw himself back in his chair, groaning.
+He took the glass of brandy the housekeeper brought him, and, after
+a few minutes, professing himself much better, left the house.
+
+“Saved!” he exclaimed, triumphantly. “Now I shall be all right
+again.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV -- AN ARTFUL TRAP
+
+
+
+Willis Ford was anxious to get away. He feared that Mrs. Estabrook
+might go to the bureau and discover the loss before he got out of
+the house, which would make it awkward for him. Once out in the
+street, he breathed more freely. He had enough with him to pay his
+only debt, and give him four hundred dollars extra. It might be
+supposed he would feel some compunction at robbing his stepmother of
+her all. Whatever her faults, she was devoted to him. But Willis
+Ford had a hard, selfish nature, and the only thought that troubled
+him was the fear that he might be found out. Indeed, the
+housekeeper's suspicions would be likely to fall upon him unless
+they could be turned in some other direction. Who should it be?
+There came to him an evil suggestion which made his face brighten
+with relief and malicious joy. The new boy, Grant Thornton, was a
+member of the household. He probably had the run of the house. What
+more probable than that he should enter Mrs. Estabrook's chamber and
+search her bureau? This was the way Willis reasoned. He knew that
+his stepmother hated Grant, and would be very willing to believe
+anything against him. He would take care that suspicion should fall
+in that direction. He thought of a way to heighten that suspicion.
+What it was my readers will learn in due time.
+
+The next day, at half-past eight o'clock in the morning, on his way
+down Broadway, Willis Ford dropped into the Grand Central Hotel, and
+walked through the reading room in the rear. Here sat Jim Morrison
+and Tom Calder, waiting for him by appointment.
+
+Ford took a chair beside them.
+
+“Good-morning,” he said, cheerfully.
+
+“Have you brought the money?” asked Morrison, anxiously.
+
+“Hush! don't speak so loud,” said Ford, cautiously. “We don't want
+everybody to know our business.”
+
+“All right,” said Morrison, in a lower voice; “but have you brought
+it?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“You're a trump!” said Morrison, his face expressing his joy.
+
+“That is to say, I've brought what amounts to the same thing.”
+
+“If it's your note,” said Morrison, with sharp disappointment, “I
+don't want it.”
+
+“It isn't a note. It's what will bring the money.”
+
+“What is it, then?”
+
+“It's government bonds for six hundred dollars.”
+
+“I don't know anything about bonds,” said Morrison. “Besides, the
+amount is more than six hundred dollars.”
+
+“These bonds are worth a hundred and twelve, amounting in all to six
+hundred and seventy-two dollars. That's forty more than I owe you. I
+won't make any account of that, however, as you will have to dispose
+of them.”
+
+“I may get into trouble,” said Morrison, suspiciously. “Where did
+they come from?”
+
+“That does not concern you,” said Ford, haughtily. “Don't I give
+them to you?”
+
+“But where did you get them?”
+
+“That is my business. If you don't want them, say the word, and I'll
+take them back.”
+
+“And when will you pay the money?”
+
+“I don't know,” answered Ford, curtly.
+
+“Maybe he'll sell 'em for us himself,” suggested Tom Calder.
+
+“Good, Tom! Why can't you sell 'em and give me the money? Then you
+can pay the exact sum and save the forty dollars.”
+
+“I don't choose to do so,” said Ford. “It seems to me you are
+treating me in a very strange manner. I offer you more than I owe
+you, and you make no end of objections to receiving it.”
+
+“I am afraid I'll get into trouble if I offer the bonds for sale,”
+ said Morrison, doggedly. “I don't know anybody in the business
+except you.”
+
+“Yes, you do,” said Ford, a bright idea occurring to him.
+
+“Who?”
+
+“You know the boy in our office.”
+
+“Grant Thornton?” said Tom.
+
+“Yes, Grant Thornton. Manage to see him, and ask him to dispose of
+the bonds for you. He will bring them to our office, and I will
+dispose of them without asking any questions.”
+
+“First rate!” said Tom. “That'll do, won't it, Jim?”
+
+“I don't see why it won't,” answered Morrison, appearing satisfied.
+
+“I would suggest that you see him some time today.”
+
+“Good! Hand over the bonds.”
+
+Willis Ford had already separated the bonds into two parcels, six
+hundred in one and four hundred in the other. The first of these he
+passed over to Jim Morrison.
+
+“Put it into your pocket at once,” he said. “We don't want anyone to
+see them. There is a telegraph boy looking at us.”
+
+“I'm going to see if it is all there,” muttered Morrison; and he
+drew from the envelope the two bonds, and ascertained, by a personal
+inspection, that they were as represented.
+
+“It's all right,” he said.
+
+“You might have taken my word for it,” said Willis Ford, offended.
+
+“In matters of business I take no one's word,” chuckled the
+confidence man.
+
+“I wonder what they're up to,” said the little telegraph boy to
+himself. “I know one of them fellers is a gambler. Wonder who that
+feller with him is? Them must be gov'ment bonds.”
+
+Johnny Cavanagh was an observing boy, and mentally photographed upon
+his memory the faces of the entire group, though he never expected
+to see any of them again.
+
+When Grant was hurrying through Wall Street about noon he came upon
+Tom Calder and Morrison.
+
+“Hello, there, Grant,” said Tom, placing his hand upon his shoulder.
+
+“What's the matter, Tom? I'm in a hurry,” said Grant.
+
+“Jim Morrison's got a little business for you.”
+
+“What is it?”
+
+“He wants you to sell gov'ment bonds for him.”
+
+“You'd better take them round to our office.”
+
+“I haven't got time,” said Morrison. “Just attend to them, like a
+good fellow, and I'll give you a dollar for your trouble.”
+
+“How much have you got?”
+
+“Six hundred--a five hundred and a one.”
+
+“Are they yours?”
+
+“Yes; I've had 'em two years, but now I've got to raise money.”
+
+“What do you want for them?”
+
+“Regular price, whatever it is.”
+
+“When will you call for the money?”
+
+“Meet me at Fifth Avenue Hotel with it tomorrow morning at nine
+o'clock.”
+
+“I shall have to meet you earlier--say half-past eight.”
+
+“All right. Here's the bonds.”
+
+Grant put the envelope into his pocket, and hurried to the Exchange.
+
+When he returned to the office he carried the bonds to Willis Ford.
+
+“Mr. Ford,” he said, “an acquaintance of mine handed them to me to
+be sold.”
+
+“Some one you know?” queried Ford.
+
+“I know him slightly.”
+
+“Well, I suppose it's all right. I'll make out a check to your
+order, and you can collect the money at the bank.”
+
+Grant interposed no objection, and put the check in his pocket.
+
+“The boy's fallen into the trap,” said Willis to himself,
+exultantly, as he proceeded to enter the transaction on the books.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI -- GRANT FALLS UNDER SUSPICION
+
+
+
+In furtherance of his scheme to throw suspicion upon Grant, Willis
+Ford decided to make another call upon his stepmother the succeeding
+evening. It occurred to him that she might possibly connect his
+visit of the evening before with her loss, and he wished to
+forestall this.
+
+“Is Mrs. Estabrook at home?” he asked of the servant.
+
+“Yes, sir.”
+
+When the housekeeper made her appearance he carefully scrutinized
+her face. She was calm and placid, and it was clear that she had not
+discovered the abstraction of the bonds.
+
+“I dare say you are surprised to see me so soon again,” he
+commenced.
+
+“I am always glad to see you, Willis,” she said. “Come upstairs.”
+
+“What a pleasant room you have, mother!”
+
+“Yes, I am very comfortable. Have you had any return of your
+sickness?” she asked, anxiously.
+
+“No, I have been perfectly well. By the way, mother, I have a
+special object in calling.”
+
+“What is it, Willis?”
+
+“I want to speak to you about those bonds of yours. If you will only
+sell them out, and invest in Erie, I am sure you will make in six
+months a sum equal to several years interest.”
+
+“That may be, Willis, but I am very timid about taking a risk. Those
+bonds represent all the property I have.”
+
+Willis Ford's conscience pricked him a little, when he heard her
+speaking thus of the property he had so heartlessly stolen; but he
+did not show it in his manner.
+
+“What is the date of your bonds, mother?” he asked.
+
+“I don't know. Does that make any difference?”
+
+“It makes some difference. Those that have longest to run are most
+valuable.”
+
+“I can easily tell,” said the housekeeper, as she rose from her
+chair and opened the bureau drawer, in full confidence that the
+bonds were safe.
+
+It was an exciting moment for Willis Ford, knowing the sad discovery
+that awaited her.
+
+She put her hand in that part of the drawer where she supposed the
+bonds to be, and found nothing. A shade of anxiety overspread her
+face, and she searched hurriedly in other parts of the drawer.
+
+“Don't you find them, mother?” asked Willis.
+
+“It is very strange,” said Mrs. Estabrook, half to herself.
+
+“What is strange?”
+
+“I always kept the bonds in the right-hand corner of this drawer.”
+
+“And you can't find them?”
+
+“I have looked all over the drawer.”
+
+“You may have put them, by mistake, in one of the other drawers.”
+
+“Heaven grant it!” said Mrs. Estabrook, her face white with anxiety.
+
+“Let me help you, mother,” said Willis, rising.
+
+She did not object, for her hands trembled with nervousness.
+
+The other drawers were opened and were thoroughly searched, but, of
+course, the bonds were not found.
+
+Mrs. Estabrook seemed near fainting.
+
+“I have been robbed,” she said. “I am ruined.”
+
+“But who could have robbed you?” asked Ford, innocently.
+
+“I-don't-know. Oh, Willis! it was cruel!” and the poor woman burst
+into tears. “All these years I have been saving, and now I have lost
+all. I shall die in the poorhouse after all.”
+
+“Not while I am living, mother,” said Willis. “But the bonds must be
+found. They must be mislaid.”
+
+“No, no! they are stolen. I shall never see them again.”
+
+“But who has taken them? Ha! I have an idea.”
+
+“What is it?” asked the housekeeper, faintly.
+
+“That boy--Grant Thornton--he lives in the house, doesn't he?”
+
+“Yes,” answered Mrs. Estabrook, in excitement. “Do you think he can
+have robbed me?”
+
+“What a fool I am! I ought to have suspected when---”
+
+“When what?”
+
+“When he brought some bonds to me to-day to sell.”
+
+“He did!” exclaimed Mrs. Estabrook; “what were they?”
+
+“A five-hundred-dollar and a hundred-dollar bond.”
+
+“I had a five-hundred and five one-hundred-dollar bonds. They were
+mine--the young villain!”
+
+“I greatly fear so, mother.”
+
+“You ought to have kept them, Willis. Oh! why didn't you? Where is
+the boy? I will see Mr. Reynolds at once.”
+
+“Wait a minute, till I tell you all I know. The boy said the bonds
+were handed to him by an acquaintance.”
+
+“It was a falsehood.”
+
+“Do you know the number of your bonds, mother?”
+
+“Yes, I have them noted down, somewhere.”
+
+“Good! I took the number of those the boy gave me for sale.”
+
+Mrs. Estabrook found the memorandum. It was compared with one which
+Willis Ford brought with him, and the numbers were identical. Four
+numbers, of course, were missing from Ford's list.
+
+“That seems pretty conclusive, mother. The young rascal has stolen
+your bonds, and offered a part of them for sale. It was certainly
+bold in him to bring them to our office. Is he in the house?”
+
+“I'll go and see.”
+
+“And bring Mr. Reynolds with you, if you can find him.”
+
+In an excited state, scarcely knowing what she did, the housekeeper
+went downstairs and found both parties of whom she was in search in
+the same room. She poured out her story in an incoherent manner,
+inveighing against Grant as a thief.
+
+When Grant, with some difficulty, understood what was the charge
+against him, he was almost speechless with indignation.
+
+“Do you mean to say I stole your bonds?” he demanded.
+
+“Yes, I do; and it was a base, cruel act.”
+
+“I agree with you in that, Mrs. Estabrook. It was base and cruel,
+but I had nothing to do with it.”
+
+“You dare to say that, when you brought the bonds to my son, Willis,
+to be sold to-day?”
+
+“Is this true, Grant?” asked Mr. Reynolds. “Did you sell any bonds
+at the office to-day?”
+
+“Yes, sir.”
+
+The broker looked grave.
+
+“Where did you get them?” he asked.
+
+“They were handed to me by an acquaintance in Wall Street.”
+
+“Who was he?”
+
+“His name is James Morrison.”
+
+“What do you know of him? Is he in any business?”
+
+“I know very little of him, sir.”
+
+“Have you handed him the money?”
+
+“No, sir. I am to meet him to-morrow morning at the Fifth Avenue
+Hotel, and pay him.”
+
+“Why doesn't he call at the office?”
+
+“I don't know,” answered Grant, puzzled. “I suggested to him to
+bring the bonds to the office himself, but he said he was in haste,
+and offered me a dollar to attend to the matter.”
+
+“This seems a mysterious case.”
+
+“Excuse me, Mr. Reynolds, but I think it is plain enough,” said the
+housekeeper, spitefully. “That boy opened my bureau drawer, and
+stole the bonds.”
+
+“That is not true, Mr. Reynolds,” exclaimed Grant, indignantly.
+
+“How did you know the bonds were offered for sale at my office
+to-day, Mrs. Estabrook?” inquired the broker.
+
+“My son--Willis Ford--told me.”
+
+“When did you see him?”
+
+“Just now.”
+
+“Is he in the house?”
+
+“Yes, sir. I left him in my room.”
+
+“Ask him to be kind enough to accompany you here.”
+
+The housekeeper left the room. Grant and his employer remained
+silent during her absence.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII -- THE TELLTALE KEY
+
+
+
+Willis Ford entered the presence of his employer with an air of
+confidence which he did not feel. Knowing his own guilt, he felt ill
+at ease and nervous; but the crisis had come and he must meet it.
+
+“Take a seat, Mr. Ford,” said Mr. Reynolds, gravely. “Your
+stepmother tells me that she has lost some government bonds?”
+
+“All I had in the world,” moaned the housekeeper.
+
+“Yes, sir; I regret to say that she has been robbed.”
+
+“I learn, moreover, that a part of the bonds were brought to my
+office for sale to-day?”
+
+“Yes, sir.”
+
+“And by Grant Thornton?”
+
+“He can answer that question for himself, sir. He is present.”
+
+“It is true,” said Grant, quietly.
+
+“Did you ask him where the bonds came from?”
+
+“He volunteered the information. He said they were intrusted to him
+for sale by a friend.”
+
+“Acquaintance,” corrected Grant.
+
+“It may have been so. I understood him to say friend.”
+
+“You had no suspicions that anything was wrong?” asked the broker.
+
+“No; I felt perfect confidence in the boy.”
+
+Grant was rather surprised to hear this. If this were the case,
+Willis Ford had always been very successful, in concealing his real
+sentiments.
+
+“How did you pay him?”
+
+“In a check to his own order.”
+
+“Have you collected the money on that check, Grant?” asked Mr.
+Reynolds.
+
+“Yes, sir.”
+
+“Have you paid it out to the party from whom you obtained the
+bonds?”
+
+“No, sir; I am to meet him to-morrow morning at the Fifth Avenue
+Hotel.”
+
+Willis Ford's countenance changed when he heard this statement. He
+supposed that Jim Morrison already had his money and was safely off
+with it. Now it was clear that Grant would not be allowed to pay it
+to him, and his own debt would remain unpaid. That being the case,
+Morrison would be exasperated, and there was no knowing what he
+would say.
+
+“What do you know of this man, Grant?”
+
+“Very little, sir.”
+
+“How does he impress you--as an honest, straightforward man?”
+
+Grant shook his head.
+
+“Not at all,” he said.
+
+“Yet you took charge of his business for him?”
+
+“Yes, sir; but not willingly. He offered me a dollar for my trouble,
+and as I did not know there was anything wrong, I consented.
+Besides---” Here Grant paused.
+
+“Well?”
+
+“Will you excuse my continuing, Mr. Reynolds?”
+
+“No,” answered the broker, firmly. “On the other hand, I insist upon
+your saying what you had in your mind.”
+
+“Having seen Mr. Ford in this man's company, I concluded he was all
+right.”
+
+Willis Ford flushed and looked disconcerted.
+
+“Is this true, Mr. Ford?” asked the broker. “Do you know this man?”
+
+“What do you say his name was, Thornton?” asked Ford, partly to gain
+time.
+
+“James Morrison.”
+
+“Yes; I know him. He was introduced to me by an intimate friend of
+that boy,” indicating Grant.
+
+Willis Ford smiled triumphantly. He felt that he had checkmated our
+hero.
+
+“Is this true, Grant?”
+
+“I presume so,” answered Grant, coolly. “You refer to Tom Calder, do
+you not, Mr. Ford?”
+
+“I believe that is his name.”
+
+“He is not an intimate friend of mine, but we came from the same
+village. It is that boy who was with me when I first met you, Mr.
+Reynolds.”
+
+The broker's face cleared.
+
+“Yes, I remember him. But how do you happen to know Tom Calder, Mr.
+Ford?”
+
+“He had a room at the same house with me. He introduced himself as a
+friend of this boy.”
+
+“Do you know anything of him--how he earns his living?”
+
+“Haven't the faintest idea,” answered Ford. “My acquaintance with
+him is very slight.”
+
+“There seems a mystery here,” said the broker. “This Morrison gives
+Grant two bonds to dispose of, which are identified as belonging to
+my housekeeper. How did he obtain possession of them? That is the
+question.”
+
+“There isn't much doubt about that,” said Mrs. Estabrook. “This boy
+whom you have taken into your family has taken them.”
+
+“You are entirely mistaken, Mrs. Estabrook,” said Grant,
+indignantly.
+
+“Of course you say so!” retorted the housekeeper; “but it stands to
+reason that that is the way it happened. You took them and gave them
+to this man--that is, if there is such a man.”
+
+“Your son says there is, Mrs. Estabrook,” said the broker, quietly.
+
+“Well, I don't intend to say how it happened. Likely enough the man
+is a thief, and that boy is his accomplice.”
+
+“You will oblige me by not jumping at conclusions, Mrs. Estabrook,”
+ said Mr. Reynolds. “Whoever has taken the bonds is likely to be
+discovered. Meanwhile your loss will, at all events, be partially
+made up, since Grant has the money realized from the sale of the
+greater part of them.”
+
+“I should like to place the money in your hands, Mr. Reynolds,” said
+Grant.
+
+“But it belongs to me,” said the housekeeper.
+
+“That is undoubtedly true,” said her employer; “but till the matter
+is ascertained beyond a doubt I will retain the money.”
+
+“How can there be any doubt?” asked the housekeeper, discontented.
+
+“I do not think there is; but I will tell you now. You claim that
+your bonds were marked by certain numbers, two of which belong to
+those which were bought by Mr. Ford at the office to-day?”
+
+“Yes, sir.”
+
+“Meanwhile, you and your stepson have had time to compare notes, and
+you have had a chance to learn his numbers.”
+
+Mrs. Estabrook turned livid.
+
+“I didn't expect to have such a charge brought against me, Mr.
+Reynolds, and by you,” she said, her voice trembling with passion.
+
+“I have brought no such charge, Mrs. Estabrook. I have only
+explained how there may be doubt of your claim to the money.”
+
+“I thought you knew me better, sir.”
+
+“I think I do, and I also think I know Grant better than to think
+him capable of abstracting your bonds. Yet you have had no
+hesitation in bringing this serious charge against him.”
+
+“That is different, sir.”
+
+“Pardon me, I can see no difference. He has the same right that you
+have to be considered innocent till he is proved to be guilty.”
+
+“You must admit, sir,” said Willis Ford, “that appearances are very
+much against Grant.”
+
+“I admit nothing, at present; for the affair seems to be
+complicated. Perhaps, Mr. Ford, you can offer some suggestion that
+will throw light upon the mystery.”
+
+“I don't think it very mysterious, sir. My mother kept her bonds in
+the upper drawer of her bureau. This boy had the run of the house.
+What was to prevent his entering my mother's room, opening the
+drawer, and taking anything he found of value?”
+
+“What was to prevent some one else doing it, Mr. Ford--myself, for
+example?”
+
+“Of course that is different, Mr. Reynolds.”
+
+“Well, I don't know. I am honest, and so, I believe, is Grant.”
+
+“Thank you, sir,” said Grant, gratefully.
+
+“It just occurred to me,” said Ford, “to ask my mother if she has at
+any time lost or mislaid her keys.”
+
+“Well thought of, Mr. Ford,” and Mr. Reynolds turned to his
+housekeeper for a reply.
+
+“No,” answered Mrs. Estabrook. “I keep my keys in my pocket, and I
+have them there yet.”
+
+So saying, she produced four keys attached to a ring.
+
+“Then,” continued Ford, “if Grant chances to have a key which will
+fit the bureau drawer, that would be evidence against him.”
+
+“Show me any keys you may have, Grant,” said the broker.
+
+Grant thrust his hand in his pocket and drew out two keys. He looked
+at them in astonishment.
+
+“One of them unlocks my valise,” he said. “The other is a strange
+key. I did not know I had it.”
+
+Ford smiled maliciously. “Let us see if it will open the bureau
+drawer,” he said.
+
+The party adjourned to the housekeeper's room. The key was put into
+the lock of the bureau drawer and opened it at once.
+
+“I think there is no more to be said,” said Willis Ford,
+triumphantly.
+
+Grant looked the picture of surprise and dismay.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII -- GRANT'S ENEMIES TRIUMPH
+
+
+
+It is not too much to say that Grant was overwhelmed by the
+unexpected discovery, in his pocket, of a key that fitted the
+housekeeper's drawer. He saw at once how strong it made the evidence
+against him, and yet he knew himself to be innocent. The most
+painful thought was, that Mr. Reynolds would believe him to be
+guilty.
+
+In fact, the broker for the first time began to think that Grant
+might possibly have yielded to temptation.
+
+“Can't you account for the possession of that key?” he asked.
+
+“No, sir,” answered Grant, in painful embarrassment. “I have
+occasion to use but one key, and that is the key to my valise.”
+
+“I think you had occasion to use the other,” sneered Ford.
+
+“Mr. Ford,” retorted Grant, indignantly, “you are determined to
+think me guilty; but I care nothing for your opinion. I should be
+very sorry if Mr. Reynolds should think me capable of such
+baseness.”
+
+“Your guilt seems pretty clear,” said Ford, sarcastically; “as I
+have no doubt Mr. Reynolds will agree.”
+
+“Speak for yourself, Mr. Ford,” said the banker, quietly.
+
+“I hope you are not going to shield that young thief, Mr. Reynolds,”
+ said the housekeeper. “His guilt is as clear as noonday. I think he
+ought to be arrested.”
+
+“You are rather in a hurry, Mrs. Estabrook,” said Mr. Reynolds; “and
+I must request you to be careful how you make charges against me.”
+
+“Against you?” asked the housekeeper, alarmed at his tone.
+
+“Yes,” answered the broker, sternly. “You have insinuated that I
+intend to shield a supposed thief. I have only to say that at
+present the theft is to be proved.”
+
+“I submit, sir,” said Ford, “that the evidence is pretty strong.
+The boy is proved to have had the bonds in his possession, he admits
+that he sold a part of them and has the money in his possession, and
+a key is found in his possession which will open the drawer in which
+the bonds were kept.”
+
+“Who put the key in my pocket?” demanded Grant, quickly.
+
+For a moment Willis Ford looked confused, and his momentary
+confusion was not lost upon Grant or the banker.
+
+“No doubt you put it there yourself,” he answered, sharply, after a
+monent's pause.
+
+“That matter will be investigated,” said the broker.
+
+“I think the money ought to be paid to me,” said the housekeeper.
+
+“Can you prove your ownership of the bonds?” asked the broker.
+
+“I can,” answered Willis Ford, flippantly. “I have seen them.”
+
+“I should like some additional evidence,” said Mr. Reynolds. “You
+are related to Mrs. Esta-brook, and may be supposed to have some
+interest in the matter.”
+
+“What proof can I have?” asked the housekeeper, disturbed by this
+unexpected obstacle.
+
+“Have you the memorandum of the broker who bought you the bonds.”
+
+“I don't know, sir.”
+
+“Then you had better look.”
+
+The housekeeper searched the drawer, and produced, triumphantly, a
+memorandum to the effect that she had purchased the bonds of a
+well-known house in Wall Street.
+
+“So far, so good!” said the broker. “It appears that besides the
+bonds sold you had four one-hundred-dollar bonds?”
+
+“Yes, sir.”
+
+“You had not parted with them?”
+
+“No, sir.”
+
+“They will some time be put on the market, and then we shall have a
+clew to the mystery.”
+
+“That boy has probably got them,” said the housekeeper, nodding her
+head emphatically.
+
+“You are at liberty to search my chamber, Mrs. Estabrook,” said
+Grant, quietly.
+
+“He may have passed them over to that man Morrison,” suggested the
+housekeeper.
+
+“I hardly think that likely,” said Willis Ford, who saw danger to
+himself in any persecution of Jim Morrison.
+
+Mr. Reynolds noticed his defense of Morrison, and glanced at him
+thoughtfully.
+
+“Mrs. Estabrook,” he said, “I am satisfied that you possessed the
+bonds which you claim, and I will relieve your mind by saying that I
+will guarantee you against loss by their disappearance. You need
+have no further anxiety on the subject. I will undertake to
+investigate the matter, which at present appears to be involved in
+mystery. Whether or not I succeed in solving it will not matter to
+you, since you are saved from loss.”
+
+“Thank you, sir,” said the housekeeper, feeling considerably
+relieved; “it wasn't much, but it was my all. I depended upon it to
+use when old age prevented me from earning my living.”
+
+“I am glad you are so wise in providing for the future.”
+
+“You won't let that boy escape?” the housekeeper could not help
+adding.
+
+“If you refer to Grant Thornton, I think I may say for him that he
+has no intention of leaving us.”
+
+“Is he to stay in the house?”
+
+“Of course; and I expect him to aid me in coming to the truth. Let
+me request, Mrs. Estabrook, that you discontinue referring to him in
+offensive terms, or I may withdraw my offer guaranteeing you from
+loss. Grant, if you will accompany me, I have some questions to put
+to you.”
+
+Grant and his employer left the room together.
+
+“He won't let the boy be punished, though he must know he's guilty,”
+ said Mrs. Estabrook, spitefully.
+
+“He makes a fool of himself about that boy,” said Willis Ford,
+disconcerted.
+
+“He's an artful young vagabond,” said the housekeeper. “I know he
+took the bonds.”
+
+“Of course he did,” Ford assented, though he had the best of reasons
+for knowing that Grant was innocent.
+
+“At any rate,” he continued, “you are all right, mother, since Mr.
+Reynolds agrees to make up the value of the bonds to you. When you
+get your money, just consult me about investing it. Don't put it
+into bonds, for they may be stolen.”
+
+“Perhaps I'd better put it into the savings bank,” said his
+stepmother.
+
+“You'll get very small interest there; I can invest it so you can
+make quite as much. However, there will be time enough to speak of
+that when you've got the money. Now, mother, I shall have to bid you
+good-evening.”
+
+“Can't you stay longer, Willis? I feel so upset that I don't like to
+be left alone. I don't know what that boy may do.”
+
+“I think you are safe,” said Willis Ford, secretly amused. But, as
+he left the house, he felt seriously disquieted. There was danger
+that Jim Morrison, when he found the money which he was to receive
+withheld, would be incensed and denounce Ford, who had received back
+his evidence of indebtedness. Should he divulge that the bonds had
+been given him by Ford, Grant would be cleared, and he would be
+convicted of theft.
+
+As Ford was leaving the house a telegraph boy was just ascending the
+steps. It was John Cavanagh, already referred to.
+
+As his eyes rested on Ford, he said to himself: “Where have I seen
+that feller? I know his face.”
+
+Then it flashed upon the boy that he had seen Ford at the Grand
+Central Hotel, in the act of giving bonds to Jim Morrison.
+
+“It's queer I should meet him here,” said the telegraph boy to
+himself. “I wonder what game he's up to.”
+
+Johnny was introduced into the presence of Mr. Reynolds, for whom he
+had a message. On his way out he met Grant in the hall. The two boys
+were acquainted, Grant having at one time advanced Johnny two
+dollars toward paying his mother's rent.
+
+“Do you live here?” asked the telegraph boy.
+
+“Yes,” answered Grant.
+
+“I met a feller goin' out that I've seen before. Who was it?”
+
+“Willis Ford, a clerk of Mr. Reynolds.”
+
+“I seed him in the Grand Central Hotel yesterday givin' some bonds
+to a suspicious-lookin' chap.”
+
+“You did,” exclaimed Grant. “Come right up and tell that to Mr.
+Reynolds,” and he seized the astonished telegraph boy by the arm.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX -- IMPORTANT EVIDENCE
+
+
+
+Mr. Reynolds looked rather surprised when Grant appeared, drawing
+the telegraph boy after him.
+
+“This boy has got something to tell you about Mr. Ford,” said Grant,
+breathless with excitement.
+
+“About Mr. Ford?” repeated the broker. “What do you know about
+Willis Ford?”
+
+“I don't know his name,” replied Johnny. “It's the chap that just
+went out of the house.”
+
+“It was Mr. Ford,” explained Grant.
+
+“Tell me what you know about him,” said the broker, encouragingly.
+
+“I seed him in the Grand Central Hotel, givin' some bond to a
+flashy-lookin' man. There was a boy wid him, a big boy.”
+
+“With whom--Mr. Ford?”
+
+“No, wid the other chap.”
+
+“I know who he means, sir,” said Grant. “It was Tom Calder.”
+
+“And the man?”
+
+“Was Jim Morrison, the same man that gave me the bonds to sell.”
+
+“That seems important,” said Mr. Reynolds. “I did not believe Ford
+capable of such rascality.”
+
+“He had as good a chance to take the bonds as I, sir. He was here
+last evening.”
+
+“Was he?” asked the broker, quickly. “I did not know that.”
+
+“He was here for an hour at least. I saw him come in and go out.”
+
+Mr. Reynolds asked several more questions of the telegraph boy, and
+enjoined him to silence.
+
+“My boy,” he said, “come here to-morrow evening at half-past seven.
+I may want you.”
+
+“I will, sir, if I can get away. I shall be on duty.”
+
+“Say to the telegraph company that I have an errand for you. Your
+time will be paid for.”
+
+“That will make it all right, sir.”
+
+“And, meanwhile, here is a dollar for your own use.”
+
+Johnny's eyes sparkled, for with his limited earnings this sum would
+come in very handy. He turned away, nearly forgetting the original
+errand that brought him to the house, but luckily it occurred in
+time. The nature of it has nothing to do with this story.
+
+When Johnny had gone, Mr. Reynolds said: “Grant, I need not caution
+you not to breathe a word of this. I begin to think that there is a
+conspiracy against you; but whether Willis Ford is alone in it, or
+has a confederate I cannot decide. My housekeeper does not appear to
+like you.”
+
+“No, sir, I am sorry to say she does not; but I don't think she is
+in this plot. I think she honestly believes that I stole her bonds.”
+
+“I have too great confidence in you to believe it. I own I was a
+little shaken when the key was found. You have no idea how it came
+in your pocket, I suppose?”
+
+“No, sir, I can't guess. I might suspect Mr. Ford of putting it
+there, but I can't see how he managed it.”
+
+“Well, we will let matters take their course. You will go to work as
+usual, and not speak a word of what has happened this evening.”
+
+“Thank you, sir.”
+
+Meanwhile, we must follow Willis Ford. When he left the house, he
+was by no means in a comfortable frame of mind. He felt that it was
+absolutely necessary to see Jim Morrison, and have an understanding
+with him. What arrangements he could make with him, or how he could
+reconcile him to the loss of the money which he had expected to
+receive from the sale of the bonds, he could not yet imagine.
+Perhaps he would be willing to receive the other four bonds in part
+payment. In that case Willis himself would not profit as much as he
+had hoped from the theft; but there seemed no alternative. He had
+got himself into a scrape, and he must get out of it the best way
+possible.
+
+Though he did not know where to find Morrison, he thought it likely
+that he might be seen at the White Elephant, a large and showy
+billiard room on Broadway, near Thirtieth Street. There were several
+gambling houses near by, and there or in that neighborhood he
+thought that Morrison might be met.
+
+He was right. On entering the billiard room he found the man he
+sought playing a game of billiards with Tom Calder, at the first
+table.
+
+“I want to see you, Morrison,” he said, in a low voice. “Is the game
+'most finished?”
+
+“I have only six points more to make. I shall probably run out this
+time.”
+
+He was right in his estimate. Two minutes later the two went out of
+the saloon together, accompanied by Tom.
+
+“Well, what is it?” he asked.
+
+“Let us turn into a side street.”
+
+They turned into Thirtieth Street, which was much less brilliantly
+lighted than Broadway, and sauntered leisurely along.
+
+“Did you buy the bonds of that boy?” asked Morrison, anxiously.
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Then it's all right. Have you brought me the money?”
+
+“How should I?” returned Ford, impatiently. “I couldn't pay him, and
+keep the money myself.”
+
+“Oh, well, it doesn't matter. He is to meet me to-morrow morning and
+hand over the money.”
+
+“I am afraid you will be disappointed.” “Disappointed,” repeated
+Morrison, quickly. “What do you mean? The boy hasn't made off with
+the money, has he? If he has---” and the sentence ended with an
+oath.
+
+“No, it isn't as you suppose.”
+
+“Then why won't he pay me the money, I'd like to know?”
+
+“There is some trouble about the bonds. It is charged that they are
+stolen.”
+
+“How is that? You gave them to me,” said Morrison, suspiciously.
+
+Now came the awkward moment. However, Ford had decided on the story
+he would tell.
+
+“They were given me by a person who owed me money,” he said,
+plausibly. “How was I to know they were stolen?”
+
+“They were stolen, then?”
+
+“I suppose so. In fact, I know so.”
+
+“How do you know?”
+
+“Well--in fact, they were stolen from my stepmother.”
+
+Morrison whistled.
+
+“Well,” he said.
+
+“Of course you mustn't say that I gave them to you. You would get me
+into trouble.”
+
+“So you want to save yourself at my expense? I am to be suspected of
+stealing the bonds, am I? That's a decidedly cool proposal, but it
+won't do. I shall clear myself, by telling just where I got the
+bonds.”
+
+“That's what I want you to do.”
+
+“You do!” ejaculated the gambler, in surprise.
+
+“Yes. You are to say that the boy gave them to you.”
+
+“Why should I say that?”
+
+“Because he is already suspected of stealing the bonds.”
+
+“But I gave them to him to sell.”
+
+“You mustn't admit it. There is no proof of it except his word.”
+
+“What's your game? Whatever it is, it is too deep for me.”
+
+“I've got it all arranged. You are to say that the boy owed you a
+gambling debt, and agreed to meet you to-morrow morning to pay it.
+Of the bonds, you are to know nothing, unless you say that he told
+you he had some which he was going to sell, in order to get money to
+pay you.”
+
+“What advantage am I to get out of all this?”
+
+“What advantage? Why, you will save yourself from suspicion.”
+
+“That isn't enough. I didn't take the bonds, and you know it. I
+believe you did it yourself.”
+
+“Hush!” said Willis Ford, looking around him nervously.
+
+“Look here, Ford, I gave up your I O U, and now I find I've got to
+whistle for my money.”
+
+“Go with me to my room, and you shall have four hundred dollars
+to-night.”
+
+“In cash?”
+
+“No; in bonds.”
+
+“Some more of the same kind? No, thank you, I want ready money.”
+
+“Then give me a little more time, and I will dispose of them--when
+this excitement blows over.”
+
+Finally Morrison gave a sulky assent, and the conspirators parted.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX -- AT THE FIFTH AVENUE HOTEL
+
+
+
+“If I thought he was playing me false,” said Jim Morrison, after
+Ford and himself had parted company, “I'd make him smart for it.”
+
+“I guess it's all right,” said Tom, who was less experienced and
+less suspicious than his companion.
+
+“It may be so, but I have my suspicions. I don't trust Willis Ford.”
+
+“Shall you go round to the Fifth Avenue Hotel to meet Grant
+to-morrow morning.”
+
+“Of course I shall. I want to see what the boy says. It may be a
+put-up job between him and Ford.”
+
+The very same question was put by Grant to Mr. Reynolds.
+
+“Shall I go round to the hotel to-morrow morning to see Morrison and
+Tom Calder?”
+
+The broker paused a moment and looked thoughtful.
+
+“Yes,” he answered, after a pause. “You may.”
+
+“And what shall I say when he demands the money?”
+
+Upon this Mr. Reynolds gave Grant full instructions as to what he
+desired him to say.
+
+About quarter after eight o'clock the next morning a quiet-looking
+man, who looked like a respectable bookkeeper entered the Fifth
+Avenue Hotel and walked through the corridor, glancing, as it
+seemed, indifferently, to the right and left. Finally he reached
+the door of the reading room and entered. His face brightened as at
+the further end he saw two persons occupying adjoining seats. They
+were, in fact, Morrison and Tom Calder.
+
+The newcomer selected a Boston daily paper, and, as it seemed, by
+chance, settled himself in a seat not six feet away from our two
+acquaintances, so that he could, without much effort, listen to
+their conversation.
+
+“It's almost time for Grant to come,” said Tom, after a pause.
+
+“Yes,” grumbled Morrison, “but as he won't have any money for me, I
+don't feel as anxious as I should otherwise.”
+
+“What'll you say to him?”
+
+“I don't know yet. I want to find out whether Ford has told the
+truth about the bonds. I believe he stole 'em himself.”
+
+Five minutes later Grant entered the reading-room. A quick glance
+showed him, not only the two he had come to meet, but the quiet,
+little man who was apparently absorbed in a copy of the Boston
+Journal. He went up at once to meet them.
+
+“I believe I am in time,” he said.
+
+“Yes,” answered Jim Morrison. “Have you brought the money?”
+
+“No.”
+
+“Why not?” demanded Morrison, with a frown.
+
+“There was something wrong about the bonds you gave me to sell.”
+
+“Weren't they all right? They weren't counterfeit, were they?”
+
+“They were genuine, but---”
+
+“But what?”
+
+“A lady claims that they belong to her--that they were stolen from
+her. Of course you can explain how they came into your hands?”
+
+“They were given me by a party that owed me money. If he's played a
+trick on me, it will be the worse for him. Did you sell them?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Then give me the money.”
+
+“Mr. Reynolds won't let me.”
+
+“Does he think I took the bonds?” asked Morrison, hastily.
+
+“No, he doesn't,” answered Grant, proudly, “but he would like to
+have an interview with you, and make some inquiries, so that he may
+form some idea as to the person who did take them. They belonged to
+his housekeeper, Mrs. Estabrook, who is the stepmother of Mr. Ford,
+a young man employed in our office.”
+
+Tom Calder and Jim Morrison exchanged glances. Grant's story agreed
+with Ford's, and tended to confirm their confidence in his good
+faith.
+
+“When does he want to see me?” asked Morrison.
+
+“Can you call at his house this evening at eight o'clock?”
+
+“Where does he live?”
+
+Grant mentioned the street and number.
+
+“I will be there,” he said, briefly.
+
+“Can I come, too?” asked Tom Calder, addressing the question to
+Grant.
+
+“There will be no objection, I think.”
+
+“Tell him we'll be on hand.”
+
+The three left the hotel together, Grant taking a Broadway stage at
+the door. The quiet man seemed no longer interested in the Boston
+Journal, for he hung it up in its place, and sauntered out of the
+hotel. He had not attracted the attention of Jim Morrison or Tom.
+
+When Grant entered the office, and with his usual manner asked Ford
+if he should go to the post-office, the young man eyed him
+curiously.
+
+“Are you to remain in the office?” he said.
+
+“Yes, I suppose so.”
+
+“After what you have done?”
+
+“What have I done, Mr. Ford?” asked Grant, eyeing the young man,
+steadily.
+
+“I don't think you need to have me tell you,” he said, with a sneer.
+“I don't think Mr. Reynolds is very prudent to employ a boy
+convicted of dishonesty.”
+
+“Do you believe me guilty, Mr. Ford?” asked our hero, calmly.
+
+“The evidence against you is overwhelming. My mother ought to have
+you arrested.”
+
+“The person who stole the bonds may be arrested.”
+
+“What do you mean?” asked Willis Ford, flushing, and looking
+disconcerted.
+
+“I mean that I have no concern in the matter. Shall I go to the
+post-office?”
+
+“Yes,” snapped Ford, “and take care you don't steal any of the
+letters.”
+
+Grant did not reply. He knew that his vindication was certain, and
+he was willing to wait.
+
+If Willis Ford had been prudent he would have dropped the matter
+there, but his hatred of Grant was too great to be easily concealed.
+When a few minutes later the broker entered the office and inquired,
+“Where is Grant?” Ford, after answering, “he has gone to the
+post-office,” could not help saying, “Are you going to keep that
+boy, Mr. Reynolds?”
+
+“Why should I not?” the broker replied.
+
+“I thought a boy in his position ought to be honest.”
+
+“I agree with you, Mr. Ford,” said the broker, quietly.
+
+“After taking my mother's bonds, that can hardly be said of Grant
+Thornton.”
+
+“You seem to be sure he did take them, Mr. Ford.”
+
+“The discovery of the key settled that to my mind.”
+
+“Grant says he has no knowledge of the key.”
+
+Ford laughed scornfully.
+
+“Of course he would say so,” he replied.
+
+“I propose to investigate the matter further,” said the broker. “Can
+you make it convenient to call at my house this evening? Possibly
+something may be discovered by that time.”
+
+“Yes, sir; I will come, with pleasure. I have no feeling in regard
+to the boy, except that I don't think it safe to employ him in a
+business like yours.”
+
+“I agree with you, Mr. Ford. One who is capable of stealing bonds
+from a private house is unfit to be employed in an office like
+mine.”
+
+“Yet you retain the boy, sir?”
+
+“For the present. It is not fair to assume that he is guilty till we
+have demonstrated it beyond a doubt.”
+
+“I think there will be no difficulty about that, Mr. Reynolds,” said
+Willis Ford, well pleased at these words.
+
+“I sincerely hope that his innocence may be proved.”
+
+Soon afterward Mr. Reynolds went to the Stock Exchange, and Willis
+Ford returned to his routine duties.
+
+“With the testimony of Jim Morrison I shall be able to fix you, my
+young friend,” he said to himself, as Grant returned from the
+post-office.
+
+No further allusion was made to the matter during the day. Grant and
+Willis Ford were both looking forward to the evening, but for
+different reasons. Grant expected to be vindicated, while Ford hoped
+he could convince the broker of the boy's guilt.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI -- THE THIEF IS DISCOVERED
+
+
+
+Willis Ford ascended the steps of the broker's residence with a
+jaunty step. The servant admitted him, but he met Grant in the hall.
+
+“Won't you come upstairs, Mr. Ford?” he said.
+
+Willis Ford nodded superciliously.
+
+“Your stay in the house will be short, young man,” he thought. “You
+had better make the most of it.”
+
+He was ushered not into the housekeeper's room, but into a
+sitting-room on the second floor. He found Mr. Reynolds and his
+stepmother there already. Both greeted him, the broker gravely, but
+his stepmother cordially. Grant did not come in.
+
+“I have come as you requested, Mr. Reynolds,” he said. “I suppose
+it's about the bonds. May I ask if you have discovered anything
+new?”
+
+“I think I have,” answered the broker, slowly.
+
+The housekeeper looked surprised. If anything new had been
+discovered, she at least had not heard it.
+
+“May I ask what it is?” Ford inquired, carelessly.
+
+“You shall know in good time. Let me, however, return the question.
+Have you heard anything calculated to throw light on the mystery?”
+
+“No, sir, I can't say I have. To my mind there is no mystery at all
+about the affair.”
+
+“I presume I understand what you mean. Still I will ask you to
+explain yourself.”
+
+“Everything seems to throw suspicion upon that boy, Grant Thornton.
+Nobody saw him take the bonds, to be sure, but he has had every
+opportunity of doing so, living in the same house, as he does.
+Again, a key has been found in his pocket, which will open the
+bureau drawer in which the bonds were kept; and, thirdly, I can
+testify, and the boy admits, that he presented them at our office
+for sale, and received the money for them. I think, sir, that any
+jury would consider this accumulation of proof conclusive.”
+
+“It does seem rather strong,” said the broker, gravely. “I
+compliment you on the way you have summed up, Mr. Ford.”
+
+Willis Ford looked much gratified. He was susceptible to flattery,
+and he was additionally pleased, because, as he thought, Mr.
+Reynolds was impressed by the weight of evidence.
+
+“I have sometimes thought,” he said, complacently, “that I ought
+to have become a lawyer. I always had a liking for the profession.”
+
+“Still,” said the broker, deliberately, “we ought to consider
+Grant's explanation of the matter. He says that the bonds were
+intrusted to him for sale by a third party.”
+
+“Of course he would say something like that,” returned Willis,
+shrugging his shoulders. “He can hardly expect anyone to be taken in
+by such a statement as that.”
+
+“You think, then, that he had no dealings with this Morrison?”
+
+“I don't say that, sir,” said Ford, remembering the story which he
+and Morrison had agreed upon. It may be stated here that he had been
+anxious to meet Morrison before meeting the coming appointment, in
+order to ascertain what had passed between him and Grant. With this
+object in view, he had gone to the usual haunts of the gambler, but
+had been unable to catch sight of him. However, as he had seen him
+the evening previous, and agreed upon the story to be told, he
+contented himself with that.
+
+“You think, then, that Morrison may have given Grant the bonds?”
+ said Mr. Reynolds.
+
+“No, sir; that is not my idea.”
+
+“Have you any other notion?”
+
+“I think the boy may have been owing him money, and took this method
+of raising it.”
+
+“But how should he owe him money?” asked the broker, curiously.
+
+“I don't wish to say anything against Morrison, but I have been told
+that he is a gambler. Grant may have lost money to him at play.”
+
+“Or you,” thought the broker; but he said:
+
+“Your suggestion is worth considering, but I don't think Grant has
+had any opportunity to lose money in that way, as he spends his
+evenings usually at home.”
+
+“It wouldn't take long to lose a great deal of money, sir.”
+
+“That explains it,” said the housekeeper, speaking for the first
+time. “I have no doubt Willis is right, and the boy gambles.”
+
+“I presume, Mr. Ford,” said the broker, with a peculiar look, “that
+you do not approve of gambling?”
+
+“Most certainly not, sir,” said Ford, his face expressing the horror
+which a so-well-conducted young man must naturally feel for so
+pernicious a habit.
+
+“I am glad to hear it. Will you excuse me a moment?”
+
+After the broker had left the room, Mrs. Estabrook turned to Willis
+and said: “You are pretty sharp, Willis. You have found out this
+wretched boy, and now I think we shall get rid of him.”
+
+“I flatter myself, mother,” said Willis, complacently, “that I
+have given the old man some new ideas as to the character of his
+favorite. I don't think we shall see him in the office again.”
+
+As he spoke, his ears caught the sound of ascending footsteps on the
+stairs without. He was rather puzzled. He conjectured that Grant had
+been summoned to confront his accuser, but there seemed, from the
+sound, to be more than two approaching. When the door opened, and
+the broker gravely ushered in Jim Morrison and Tom Calder, both
+looking ill at ease, followed by Grant Thornton, he looked amazed
+and perplexed.
+
+“I believe you know these gentlemen,” said Mr. Reynolds, gravely. “I
+have thought it best to make our present investigation thorough and
+complete.”
+
+“I have met the gentlemen before,” said Ford, uncomfortably.
+
+“You also have met them, Grant, have you not?”
+
+“Yes, sir.”
+
+“Have you had any business transaction with either?”
+
+“Yes, sir. Mr. Morrison met me on Wall Street and handed me two
+bonds, with a request that I would sell them for him, and hand him
+the money the next morning, at the Fifth Avenue Hotel.”
+
+“Were these the same bonds that you sold to Mr. Ford?”
+
+“Yes, sir.”
+
+“I think the boy is lying, sir,” burst out Ford.
+
+“What have you to say to the boy's story, Mr. Morrison?” asked the
+broker.
+
+“He's made a little mistake,” answered Jim Morrison, who by this
+time was feeling more at his ease. “I didn't give him no bonds.”
+
+Willis Ford looked triumphant, and Grant amazed.
+
+“How, then, could there be any business between you?”
+
+“I may as well own up that I am a gambler,” replied Morrison, with
+virtuous frankness. “The boy lost the money to me at play, and said
+he'd meet and pay me at the Fifth Avenue Hotel. I didn't know where
+he was goin' to get the money, but I expect he must have stolen the
+bonds, and got it that way.”
+
+Considering the damaging nature of the revelation, Grant showed
+considerable self-command. He did not turn pale, nor did he look
+guilty and conscience-stricken.
+
+“What have you to say to this charge, Grant?” asked the broker.
+
+“It is not true, sir.”
+
+“What a hardened young villain!” said the housekeeper, in a low, but
+audible voice.
+
+“Mr. Reynolds will hardly believe you,” said Ford, turning upon our
+hero and speaking in a tone of virtuous indignation. “You see, sir,”
+ he continued, addressing the broker, “that I was right in my
+conjecture.”
+
+“I am not quite satisfied yet,” said Mr. Reynolds. “Grant, call the
+boy.”
+
+Great was the perplexity of Willis Ford and his friends when Grant
+left the room, and almost immediately reappeared with a small boy in
+blue uniform. Not one of them recognized him.
+
+“Have you ever seen any of these gentlemen before, my boy?” asked
+the broker.
+
+“I've seed 'em all, sir,” answered the boy.
+
+“State where you saw them last.”
+
+“I seed him, and him, and him,” said Johnny, pointing out Willis
+Ford, Jim Morrison and Tom Calder, “at the Grand Central Hotel
+yesterday mornin'.”
+
+Ford started and became very pale.
+
+“What passed between them?”
+
+“He,” indicating Ford, “gave some bonds to him,” indicating
+Morrison, “and got back a bit of paper. I don't know what was on
+it.”
+
+“It is false!” ejaculated Willis Ford, hoarsely.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII -- WILLIS FORD AT BAY
+
+
+
+The telegraph boy's evidence overwhelmed Willis Ford and his
+confederates with dismay. The feeling was greater in Ford, for it
+tended to fasten the theft upon him, while Jim Morrison and Tom
+Calder, though convicted of falsehood, were at all events sustained
+by the consciousness that nothing worse could be alleged against
+them.
+
+“It is false!” asserted Willis Ford, with a flushed face.
+
+“It is true!” declared the telegraph boy, sturdily.
+
+“I don't believe a word of it,” said the housekeeper, angrily.
+
+“This is a startling revelation, Mr. Ford,” said the broker,
+gravely.
+
+“It is a base conspiracy, sir,” returned Ford, hoarsely. “I submit,
+sir, that the word of a boy like that ought not to weigh against
+mine. Besides, these gentlemen,” indicating Jim Morrison and Tom
+Calder, “will corroborate my statement.”
+
+“Of course we do,” blustered Morrison. “That boy is a liar!”
+
+“I have spoken the truth, sir, and they know it,” asserted Johnny,
+resolutely.
+
+“How much did Grant Thornton pay you for telling this lie?” demanded
+Willis Ford, furiously.
+
+“I will answer that question, Mr. Ford,” said Grant, thinking it
+time to speak for himself. “I paid him nothing, and did not know
+till last evening that he had witnessed the interview between you
+and Mr. Morrison.”
+
+“Your word is of no value,” said Ford, scornfully.
+
+“That is a matter for Mr. Reynolds to consider,” answered Grant,
+with composure.
+
+“Mr. Ford,” said the broker, gravely, “I attach more importance to
+the testimony of this telegraph boy than you appear to; but then it
+is to be considered that you are an interested party.”
+
+“Am I to be discredited on account of what a wretched telegraph boy
+chooses to say?” asked Ford, bitterly. “Even supposing him worthy of
+credence, my two friends sustain me, and it is three against one.”
+
+“They are your friends, then?” asked Mr. Reynolds, significantly.
+
+Willis Ford flushed. It was not to his credit to admit that an
+acknowledged gambler was his friend, yet he knew that to deny it
+would make Morrison angry, and perhaps lead him to make some awkward
+revelations.
+
+“I have not known them long, sir,” he answered, embarrassed, “but I
+believe they feel friendly to me. One of them,” he added,
+maliciously, “is an old friend of Grant Thornton.”
+
+“Yes,” answered Grant, by no means disconcerted. “Tom Calder is from
+the same town as myself, and I wish him well.”
+
+Tom looked pleased at this friendly declaration on the part of
+Grant, whom, indeed, he personally liked better than Willis Ford,
+who evidently looked down upon him, and had more than once snubbed
+him.
+
+“You see,” said Ford, adroitly, “that Grant Thornton's old friend
+testifies against him. I don't think I need say any more except to
+deny, in toto, the statement of that low telegraph boy.”
+
+“I'm no lower than you are,” retorted Johnny, angrily.
+
+“None of your impertinence, boy!” said Ford, loftily.
+
+“I must say,” interposed the housekeeper, “that this seems a very
+discreditable conspiracy against my stepson. I am sure, Mr.
+Reynolds, you won't allow his reputation to be injured by such a
+base attack.”
+
+“Mr. Ford,” said the broker, “I have listened attentively to what
+you have said. I ought to say that a telegraph boy has as much right
+to be believed as yourself.”
+
+“Even when there are three against him?”
+
+“The three are interested parties.”
+
+“I have no doubt he is also. I presume he has an understanding with
+Grant Thornton, who is a suspected thief.”
+
+“I deny that, Mr. Ford,” exclaimed Grant, indignantly.
+
+“You are certainly suspected of stealing my stepmother's bonds.”
+
+“And I have no doubt you took them,” declared the housekeeper,
+venomously.
+
+At this time the doorbell was heard to ring.
+
+“Excuse me for a moment,” said the broker. “I will be back
+directly.”
+
+When he had left the room, the parties left behind looked at each
+other uncomfortably. Willis Ford, however, was too angry to keep
+silence.
+
+He turned to Grant, and made an attack upon him.
+
+“You won't accomplish anything, you young rascal, by your plotting
+and contriving! I give you credit for a good deal of cunning in
+bringing this boy to give the testimony he has; but it won't do you
+any good. Mr. Reynolds isn't a fool, and he will see through your
+design.”
+
+“That he will, Willis,” said the housekeeper. “After all the
+kindness that boy has received in this house, he might be better
+employed than in stealing my bonds, and then trying to throw it upon
+a man like you.”
+
+“I don't care to argue with you, Mr. Ford,” said Grant, quietly.
+“You know as well as I do that I didn't steal the bonds, and you
+know,” he added, significantly, “who did.”
+
+“I have a great mind to break your head, you impudent boy!”
+
+“That would be a very poor argument. The truth has already come out,
+and I am vindicated.”
+
+“I don't know whether you expect Mr. Reynolds to shield you or not,
+but, if my mother takes my advice, she will have you arrested,
+whatever happens.”
+
+“I intend to,” said the housekeeper, nodding spitefully. “If you had
+returned the bonds, I did not mean to let the matter drop, but since
+you have tried to throw suspicion on my son, who has always been
+devoted to me, I mean to punish you as severely as the law allows.”
+
+“I think you will change your mind, Mrs. Estabrook, and let the
+thief go unpunished,” said Grant, in no ways disturbed.
+
+“Not unless you make a full confession; and even then I think you
+ought to suffer for your base wickedness.”
+
+“You are making a mistake, Mrs. Estabrook. I referred to the thief.”
+
+“That is yourself.”
+
+Grant shrugged his shoulders. He was spared the necessity of
+answering the attack, for just then the door opened, and Mr.
+Reynolds re-entered. He did not enter alone, however.
+
+A small man of quiet manner, attired in a sober suit of brown,
+closely followed him.
+
+All present looked at him in surprise. Who was this man, and what
+had he to do with the matter that concerned them all?
+
+They were not destined to remain long in doubt,
+
+“Mr. Graham, gentlemen!” said the broker, with a wave of the hand.
+
+The detective bowed courteously.
+
+“Mr. Graham, permit me to ask,” continued the broker, “if you have
+seen any of these gentlemen before?”
+
+“Yes,” answered Graham, and he indicated Grant Thornton, Jim
+Morrison and Tom Calder.
+
+“When did you see them, and where?”
+
+“At the Fifth Avenue Hotel this morning.”
+
+“What passed between them?”
+
+“They were talking about some bonds, which that gentleman,”
+ indicating Morrison, “acknowledged giving to the boy to sell. He
+asked for the proceeds, but the boy told him there was something
+wrong about the bonds, and his employer wouldn't allow him to pass
+over the money. Upon this, Morrison, as I understand him to be
+called, said they were given him by a party that owed him money, and
+threatened that, if he had played a trick upon him, it would be the
+worse for him.”
+
+“Who is that man, Mr. Reynolds?” asked Ford, in nervous excitement.
+
+“One of the best known detectives in the city,” quietly answered the
+broker. “What have you to say to his evidence?”
+
+“That it doesn't concern me. I may be wrong about the boy taking the
+bonds, but that doesn't involve me. There may have been another
+party.”
+
+“You forget the testimony of the telegraph boy--that he saw you give
+the bonds to your friend there.”
+
+“The boy told a falsehood!”
+
+“I am in a position to confirm the boy's testimony,” said the
+detective.
+
+Willis Ford gasped for breath and seemed ready to sink into the
+floor. What was coming next?
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII -- JUSTICE TRIUMPHS
+
+
+
+Mr. Graham turned to the broker and addressed further remarks to
+him.
+
+“Your statement that four hundred dollars remained to be accounted
+for, led me to conclude that they would be found in the possession
+of the party who had abstracted the others. I therefore obtained a
+search warrant and visited the room occupied by that gentleman,
+whose name I believe is Willis Ford.”
+
+This was an unexpected stroke. Ford did not speak, but kept his eyes
+fixed upon the detective in evident panic.
+
+“I have just come from Mr. Ford's room,” he resumed. “These are what
+I found there.”
+
+He drew from his pocket a long envelope, from which he took four
+government bonds.
+
+“Will you be kind enough, Mrs. Estabrook,” said the broker, gravely,
+“to examine these bonds and determine whether they are yours?”
+
+The housekeeper took them mechanically and examined them.
+
+“They are mine,” she said; “but I cannot believe Willis took them.”
+
+“I did not,” said Ford, hoarsely, but his eyes were downcast.
+
+“Will you account for their being in your room, then, Mr. Ford?”
+ inquired the broker, sternly.
+
+“That boy must have put them there. I know nothing of them. I am as
+much surprised as you are.”
+
+“We have had enough of this, Mr. Ford,” said the broker, coldly.
+“Your guilt is evident. In robbing your stepmother you have
+committed a serious crime; but in attempting to throw the guilt upon
+an innocent boy, you have been guilty of an offense still more
+detestable, and one which I cannot forgive. You cannot remain in my
+employment another day. If you will call at the office in the
+morning, I will pay your salary to the end of the month. That will
+end all relations between us.”
+
+Willis Ford looked like a convicted criminal. For the moment all his
+hardihood and bravado deserted him.
+
+“Can this be true, Willis?” wailed his stepmother. “Is it possible
+that you took my bonds, and would have left me to an old age of
+poverty?”
+
+“No,” answered Ford, with a return of his usual assurance. “I am as
+innocent as a babe unborn. I am the victim of a conspiracy. As Mr.
+Reynolds is determined to shield his favorite by throwing the blame
+on it, I must submit. The time will come when he will acknowledge my
+innocence. Mother, I will satisfy you later, but I do not believe
+you will think me guilty. Gentlemen, I bid you all good-evening.”
+
+No one spoke as he withdrew from the room, and not even Morrison
+offered to follow him.
+
+When he was fairly out of the room, the broker turned to Morrison.
+
+“Mr. Morrison,” he said, “I have a question or two to put to you. I
+think you will find it to your interest to answer correctly. Do you
+still maintain that these bonds were given you by Grant Thornton?”
+
+“I may as well make a clean breast of it,” said Morrison. “They were
+given me by Willis Ford.”
+
+“To satisfy a gambling debt, was it not?”
+
+“Yes, sir.”
+
+“I take it for granted you did not know they were stolen?”
+
+“If I had known it I wouldn't have touched them. I might have been
+suspected of stealing them myself.”
+
+“I believe you.”
+
+“You're a gentleman,” said Morrison, gratified that his word was
+accepted.
+
+“Of course you have lost the amount which you consider due you. To
+be entirely candid with you, I do not feel any sympathy with you.
+Money won at play must be classed among ill-gotten gains. I hope you
+will realize this, and give up a discreditable profession.”
+
+“I have no doubt your advice is good, sir. Do you want me and Tom
+any longer?”
+
+“You are at liberty to go. I am indebted to you for coming. You have
+helped to clear up the mystery of the theft.”
+
+“He's a little hard on us, Tom,” said Morrison, as they went down
+the front steps, “but he's treated us like a gentleman. That Ford is
+a rascal.”
+
+“I think so, too,” Tom assented.
+
+“And I shall never see a cent of that six hundred dollars,”
+ continued Jim Morrison, ruefully.
+
+“If you'll excuse me, I'll go to my own room,” said Mrs. Estabrook,
+pertly. “I want to think quietly of all this.”
+
+“Go, by all means,” said the broker, courteously. “To-morrow morning
+your property shall be restored to you.”
+
+Next the detective and the telegraph boy withdrew, the latter rich
+by a five-dollar note, which Mr. Reynolds presented him.
+
+Johnny's eyes sparkled.
+
+“That will make mother happy,” he said. “She'll think I am in luck.”
+
+“Keep your eyes open, my boy, and be faithful to your employer, and
+this won't be the last piece of luck that will come your way.”
+
+When they were alone Mr. Reynolds turned to Grant and said kindly,
+“I congratulate you, Grant, on your complete vindication. Those who
+have wickedly conspired against you have come to grief, and you come
+out of the trial unscathed. As I am to part with Willis Ford, though
+you are not competent to take his place, your duties will be
+somewhat enlarged, and I will take care that your compensation shall
+be increased.”
+
+“I am afraid, Mr. Reynolds, I already receive more than I earn.”
+
+“That may be, but I am only anticipating a little. How much do I pay
+you now?”
+
+“Six dollars a week, sir.”
+
+“I will allow you four dollars more, but this additional sum I will
+keep in my own hands, and credit you with. It is time you were
+saving something for future use. Will this be satisfactory to you?”
+
+“You are very kind, Mr. Reynolds,” said Grant. “I don't know how to
+thank you.”
+
+“Then I will tell you--be faithful in your duties in the office and
+continue your kindness to Herbert.”
+
+“Gladly, sir.”
+
+Grant decided not to write to his mother about his increase in
+salary. He preferred to wait till his savings amounted to a
+considerable sum, and then surprise her by the announcement of his
+good fortune. In six months, he estimated, he would have more than a
+hundred dollars, and this to the country minister's son seemed a
+large sum. At any rate, when he was twenty-one he might hope to be
+the possessor of a thousand dollars. This opened to Grant a
+brilliant prospect. It was probably all his father was worth,
+including all his possessions.
+
+“In spite of my uncle's opposition,” thought Grant, “I think I acted
+wisely in preferring business to college. Now I shall be able to
+make the family more comfortable.”
+
+When Willis Ford called at the office the next morning Grant was
+gone to the post office. As he returned he met Ford coming out with
+a check in his hand.
+
+“So it's you, is it?” sneered Ford, stopping short.
+
+“Yes, Mr. Ford.”
+
+“I suppose you are exulting over your victory?”
+
+“You are mistaken,” said Grant. “It was not my wish that anything
+unpleasant should happen.”
+
+“I suppose not,” said Ford, in an unpleasant tone.
+
+“For some reason you have shown a dislike to me from the first,”
+ Grant proceeded. “I don't know why. I have always treated you with
+respect and tried to do my duty faithfully.”
+
+“You are a little angel, to be sure.”
+
+“Have you any objection to telling me why you dislike me?” he asked.
+
+“Yes, I'll tell you. It is because I see how you are trying to worm
+yourself into the confidence of Mr. Reynolds. You have plotted
+against me, and now, thanks to you, I have lost my place.”
+
+“I don't consider myself the cause of that, Mr. Ford.”
+
+“I do. But you needn't exult too much. I generally pay my debts, and
+I shan't forget what I owe you. I will be even with you some day.”
+
+So saying, he walked off, and Grant returned to his work.
+
+“I can't understand why Mr. Ford should hate me so,” he thought.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV -- STARTLING NEWS
+
+
+
+Willis Ford's feelings were far from enviable when he took leave of
+the office in which he had long enjoyed an excellent position. He
+was conscious, though scarcely willing to admit it, that his
+misfortunes had been brought upon him by his own unwise, not to say
+criminal, course. None the less, however, was he angry with those
+whom he had connected with the disaster that had come upon him. He
+had always disliked Grant Thornton. Now he hated him, and thirsted
+for an opportunity to do him mischief. Next he felt embittered
+against Mr. Reynolds, who had discharged him, though it is hardly
+possible to see how the broker could have done otherwise. This
+dislike was increased within a few days, and for this reason.
+
+Ford addressed a letter to Mr. Reynolds, requesting a certificate of
+good character, which would enable him to procure a new situation.
+
+To this request the broker answered substantially as follows:
+
+“I shall be glad to hear that you have changed your course, and have
+decided to lead an honest lift; but, for the same reason that I am
+not willing to retain you in my employment, I am unwilling to
+recommend you without reserve to another business man. If you are
+willing to refer him to me, on condition that I tell the truth, I
+will cheerfully testify that you have discharged your office duties
+to my satisfaction.”
+
+“The old fool!” muttered Ford, angrily crushing the letter in his
+hand. “What use would such a recommendation be to me? Not content
+with discharging me, he wants to keep me out of employment.”
+
+In truth, Willis Ford hardly knew where to turn. He had saved no
+money, and was earning nothing. In his dilemma he turned to his
+stepmother.
+
+One forenoon, after he knew the broker and Grant would be out of the
+way, he rang the bell, and inquired for the housekeeper.
+
+Mrs. Estabrook was agitated when she saw her step-son. She did not
+like to believe that he had robbed her, but it was hard to believe
+otherwise.
+
+“Oh, Willis!” she said almost bursting into tears, “how could you
+take my small savings? I would not have believed you capable of it!”
+
+“You don't mean to say, mother,” returned Willis, with
+well-dissembled and reproachful sorrow, “that you believe this
+monstrous slander?”
+
+“I don't want to believe it, Willis, heaven knows. But were not the
+bonds found in your room?”
+
+“I admit it,” said Ford; “but how did they get there?”
+
+“Did you not put them there?”
+
+“Certainly not, mother. I thought you knew me better than that.”
+
+“But who, then--” began his step-mother, looking bewildered.
+
+“Who should it be but that boy?”
+
+“Grant Thornton?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Have you any proof of this?” asked the housekeeper, eagerly.
+
+“I will tell you what I have found out. I learn that a boy called,
+on the day in question, at my room and asked to see me. Being told
+that I was out, he asked leave to go up and wait for me. As the
+servant had no suspicion, he was allowed to go up. I don't know how
+long he stayed; but no doubt he had the bonds with him and concealed
+them where they were found.”
+
+“Did you ask for a description of the boy? Was it like Grant?” asked
+the housekeeper, quickly.
+
+“Unfortunately, the girl did not take particular notice of him. I
+have no doubt that it was either Grant or the telegraph boy, who
+seems to have been in the plot.”'
+
+Now, this story was an audacious fiction, and should not have
+imposed upon a person of ordinary intelligence; but the housekeeper
+was anxious to believe her step-son innocent and Grant guilty. She
+therefore accepted it without question, and was loud in her
+denunciation of that “artful young rascal.”
+
+“You ought to tell Mr. Reynolds of this, Willis,” she said.
+
+“It would be of no use, mother. He is too strongly prejudiced
+against me. What do you think? He has refused me a letter of
+recommendation. What does he care if I starve?” concluded Willis,
+bitterly.
+
+“But I care, Willis. I will not desert you,” said Mrs. Estabrook, in
+a tone of sympathy.
+
+This was just the mood in which Ford desired his step-mother to be.
+He was desirous of effecting a loan, and after a time succeeded in
+having transferred to him two of the one-hundred-dollar bonds. He
+tried hard to obtain the five hundred, but Mrs. Estabrook was too
+prudent and too much attached to her savings to consent to this.
+Ford had to be satisfied with considerably less.
+
+“Ought I to stay with Mr. Reynolds after he has treated you in this
+way, Willis?” asked his step-mother, anxiously.
+
+“By all means, mother. You don't want to throw away a good
+position.”
+
+“But it will be hard to see that boy high in Mr. Reynolds'
+confidence, after all his wickedness.”
+
+“You must dissemble, mother. Treat him fairly, and watch your
+opportunity to harm him and serve me. Don't say much about me, for
+it would do no good; but keep your hold on Reynolds.”
+
+“If you think it best, Willis,” said his stepmother, not without a
+feeling of relief, for she was reluctant to relinquish a good home
+and liberal salary, “I will remain.”
+
+“Do so by all means. We may as well make all we can out of the
+enemy, for Mr. Reynolds has treated me very shabbily. And now I must
+bid you good-by.”
+
+“What are your plans, Willis?”
+
+“I can't tell you, but I think I shall go West.”
+
+“And I shall never see you!”
+
+“You will hear from me, and I hope I shall have good news to write.”
+
+Willis Ford left the house, and, going to the Grand Central Depot,
+bought a ticket for Chicago.
+
+Now came quite a pleasant period after the trouble and excitement.
+Grant found his duties at the office increased, and it was pleasant
+to see that his employer reposed confidence in him. His relations
+with others in the office were pleasant, now that Willis Ford was
+away, and every day he seemed to get new insight into the details of
+the business. Whether Jim Morrison and Tom Calder were in the city,
+he did not know. At all events, they were never seen in the
+neighborhood of Wall Street. Grant was not sorry to have them pass
+out of his life, for he did not consider that he was likely to draw
+any benefit from their presence and companionship.
+
+He was still a member of Mr. Reynolds' house-hold. Herbert appeared
+to be as much attached to him as if he were an older brother, and
+the broker looked with pleasure upon the new happiness that beamed
+from the face of his son.
+
+As to Mrs. Estabrook, Grant had feared that she would continue to
+show animosity toward him, but he had nothing to complain of. She
+certainly did not show any cordiality in her necessary intercourse
+with him; but then, on the other hand, she did not manifest any
+desire to injure him. This was all Grant desired. He felt that under
+no circumstances could he have made a friend of the housekeeper. He
+was content to have her leave him alone.
+
+After the lapse of six months Grant expressed a desire to go home to
+pass a day or two. His mother's birthday was close at hand, and he
+had bought for her a present which he knew would be acceptable.
+Permission was readily accorded, and Grant passed four happy days at
+home. His parents were pleased that he was so highly regarded by his
+employer, and had come to think that Grant's choice had been a wise
+one.
+
+When Grant returned he went at once to the office. He found it a
+scene of excitement.
+
+“What has happened?” he asked, eagerly.
+
+“Herbert Reynolds has disappeared, and his father is almost beside
+himself with grief!” was the startling reply.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV -- ANXIOUS INQUIRIES
+
+
+
+After a while Grant learned the particulars about Herbert's
+disappearance. He had gone out to play in the street about three
+o'clock in the afternoon. Generally he waited for Grant to
+return-home, but during his absence he had found other companions.
+When his father returned home, he inquired of the housekeeper:
+“Where is Herbert?”
+
+“He went out to play,” said Mrs. Estabrook, indifferently.
+
+“In the street?”
+
+“I believe so.”
+
+“He ought to be in by this time.”
+
+“Probably he went to walk with some of his companions. As he had no
+watch, he might not know that it is so late.”
+
+This seemed very plausible to Mr. Reynolds.
+
+“Yes,” he said; “Herbert seems lost without Grant. He will be glad
+to see him back.”
+
+To this Mrs. Estabrook did not reply. She had learned, to her cost,
+that it would not be politic to speak against Grant, and she was not
+disposed to praise him. She seldom mentioned him at all.
+
+The dinner bell rang, and still Herbert had not returned. His father
+began to feel anxious.
+
+“It is strange that Herbert remains so long away,” he said.
+
+“I shouldn't wonder if he had gone to Central Park on some
+excursion,” returned the housekeeper calmly.
+
+“You think there is nothing wrong?” asked the broker, anxiously.
+
+“How could there be here, sir?” answered Mrs. Estabrook, with
+unruffled demeanor.
+
+This answer helped to calm Mr. Reynolds, who ordered dinner delayed
+half an hour.
+
+When, however, an hour--two hours--passed, and the little boy still
+remained absent, the father's anxiety became insupportable. He
+merely tasted a few spoonfuls of soup, and found it impossible to
+eat more. The housekeeper, on the contrary, seemed quite
+unconcerned, and showed her usual appetite.
+
+“I am seriously anxious, Mrs. Estabrook,” said the broker. “I will
+take my hat and go out to see if I can gain any information. Should
+Herbert return while I am away, give him his supper, and, if he is
+tired, let him go to bed, just finding out why he was out so late.”
+
+“Very well, sir.”
+
+When Mr. Reynolds had left the house a singular expression of
+gratified malice swept over the housekeeper's face. “It is just
+retribution,” she murmured. “He condemned and discharged my stepson
+for the sin of another. Now it is his own heart that bleeds.”
+
+Only a few steps from his own door the broker met a boy about two
+years older than Herbert, with whom the latter sometimes played.
+
+“Harvey,” he said, “have you seen Herbert this afternoon?”
+
+“Yes, sir; I saw him about three o'clock.”
+
+“Where?” asked the broker, anxiously.
+
+“Just 'round the corner of the block,” answered Harvey Morrison.
+
+“Was he alone?”
+
+“No; there was a young man with him--about twenty, I should think.”
+
+“A young man! Was it one you had ever saw before?”
+
+“No, sir.”
+
+“What was his appearance?”
+
+Harvey described Herbert's companion as well as he could, but the
+anxious father did not recognize the description.
+
+“Did you speak to Herbert? Did you ask where he was going?”
+
+“Yes, sir. He told me that you had sent for him to go on an
+excursion.”
+
+“Did he say that?” asked the father, startled.
+
+“Yes, sir.”
+
+“Then there is some mischief afoot. I never sent for him,” said the
+agitated father.
+
+Mr. Reynolds requested Harvey to accompany him to the nearest police
+station, and relate all that he knew to the officer in charge, that
+the police might be put on the track. He asked himself in vain what
+object any one could have in spiriting away the boy, but no probable
+explanation occurred to him.
+
+On his return to the house he communicated to the housekeeper what
+he had learned.
+
+“What do you think of it?” he asked.
+
+“It may be only a practical joke,” answered the housekeeper calmly.
+
+“Heaven grant it may be nothing more! But I fear it is something far
+more serious.”
+
+“I dare say it's only a boy's lark, Mr. Reynolds.”
+
+“But you forget--it was a young man who was seen in his company.”
+
+“I really don't know what to think of it, then. I don't believe the
+boy will come to any harm.”
+
+Little sleep visited the broker's pillow that night, but the
+housekeeper looked fresh and cheerful in the morning.
+
+“Has the woman no feeling?” thought the anxious father, as he
+watched the tranquil countenance of the woman who for five years had
+been in charge of his house.
+
+When she was left alone in the house Mrs. Estabrook took from her
+workbasket a letter, bearing date a month previous, and read slowly
+the following paragraph: “I have never forgotten the wrong done me
+by Mr. Reynolds. He discharged me summarily from his employment and
+declined to give me a recommendation which would secure me a place
+elsewhere. I swore at the time that I would get even with him, and I
+have never changed my resolution. I shall not tell you what I
+propose to do. It is better that you should not know. But some day
+you will hear something that will surprise you. When that time
+comes, if you suspect anything, say nothing. Let matters take their
+course.”
+
+The letter was signed by Willis Ford.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI -- A WESTERN CABIN
+
+
+
+“Abner!”
+
+The speaker was a tall, gaunt woman, in a loose, faded, calico
+dress, and she stood at the door of a cabin in a Western clearing.
+
+“What yer want?” came as a reply from a tall, unhealthy-looking boy
+in overalls, who was sitting on a log in the yard.
+
+“I want you to split some wood for the stove.”
+
+“I'm tired,” drawled the boy.
+
+“I'll tire you!” said the mother, sharply. “You tall, lazy,
+good-for-nothing drone! Here I've been up since five o'clock,
+slavin' for you and your drunken father. Where's he gone?”
+
+“To the village, I reckon.”
+
+“To the tavern, I reckon. It's there that he spends all the money he
+gets hold of; he never gives me a cent. This is the only gown I've
+got, except an old alpaca. Much he cares!”
+
+“It isn't my fault, is it?” asked the boy, indifferently.
+
+“You're a-follerin' in his steps. You'll be just another Joel
+Barton--just as shif'less and lazy. Just split me some wood before I
+get hold of yer!”
+
+Abner rose slowly, went to the shed for an ax, and in the most
+deliberate manner possible began to obey his mother's commands.
+
+The cabin occupied by Abner and his parents was far from being a
+palace. It contained four rooms, but the furniture was of the most
+primitive description. Joel Barton, the nominal head of the family,
+was the possessor of eighty acres of land, from which he might have
+obtained a comfortable living, for the soil was productive; but he
+was lazy, shiftless and intemperate, as his wife had described him.
+Had he been as active and energetic as she was, he might have been
+in very different circumstances. It is no wonder that the poor woman
+was fretted and irritated almost beyond endurance, seeing how all
+her industry was neutralized by her husband's habits. Abner took
+after his father, though he had not yet developed a taste for drink,
+and was perfectly contented with their poor way of living, as long
+as he was not compelled to work hard. What little was required of
+him he would shirk if he possibly could.
+
+This cabin was situated about a mile from the little village which
+had gathered round the depot. The name of the township was Scipio,
+though it is doubtful if one in fifty of the inhabitants knew after
+whom it was named. In fact, the name was given by a schoolmaster,
+who had acquired some rudiments of classical learning at a country
+academy.
+
+To the depot we must transport the reader, on the arrival of the
+morning train from Chicago. But two passengers got out. One of them
+was a young man under twenty. The other was a boy, apparently about
+ten years of age, whom he held firmly by the hand.
+
+He was a delicate-looking boy, and, though he was dressed in a
+coarse, ill-fitting suit, he had an appearance of refinement and
+gentle nature, as if he had been brought up in a luxurious home. He
+looked sad and anxious, and the glances he fixed on his companion
+indicated that he held him in fear.
+
+“Where are you going?” he asked timidly, looking about him
+apprehensively.
+
+“You'll know soon enough,” was the rough reply.
+
+“When are you going to take me home, Mr. Ford?” asked the boy, in a
+pleading tone.
+
+“Don't trouble yourself about that.”
+
+“Papa will be so anxious about me--papa and Grant!”
+
+The young man's brow contracted.
+
+“Don't mention the name of that boy! I hate him.”
+
+“He was always good to me. I liked so much to be with him.”
+
+“He did all he could to injure me. I swore to be even with him, and
+I will!”
+
+“But I have never injured you, Mr. Ford.”
+
+“How could you--a baby like you?” said Ford, contemptuously.
+
+“Then why did you take me from home, and make me so unhappy?”
+
+“Because it was the only way in which I could strike a blow at your
+father and Grant Thornton. When your father dismissed me, without a
+recommendation, not caring whether I starved or not, he made me his
+enemy.”
+
+“But he wouldn't if you hadn't--”
+
+“Hadn't what?” demanded Ford, sternly.
+
+“Taken Mrs. Estabrook's bonds.”
+
+“Dare to say that again, and I will beat you,” said Willis Ford,
+brutally.
+
+Herbert trembled, for he had a timid nature, and an exquisite
+susceptibility to pain.
+
+“I didn't mean to offend you,” he said.
+
+“You'd better not. Wait here a minutes, while I look around for some
+one of whom I can make inquiries. Here, sit down on that settee,
+and, mind you, don't stir till I come back. Will you obey me?”
+
+“Yes,” answered the boy, submissively.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII -- THE RIDE TO BARTON'S
+
+
+
+Willis Ford went to the station master, who stood at the door with a
+cheap cigar in his mouth.
+
+“Is there a man named Joel Barton living hereabouts?” he asked.
+
+The station master took his cigar from his mouth and surveyed his
+questioner with some curiosity.
+
+“Does he owe you money?” he inquired.
+
+“No,” answered Ford, impatiently. “Will you answer my question?”
+
+“You needn't be in such a pesky hurry,” drawled the station master.
+“Yes, he lives up the road a piece.”
+
+“How far is a piece?”
+
+“Well, maybe a mile.”
+
+“Straighten?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Is there any way of riding?”
+
+“Well, stranger, I've got a team myself. Is that boy with you?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“I'll take you over for half a dollar.”
+
+“Can you go at once?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Then it's a bargain.”
+
+The station master, whose house was only three minutes' walk away,
+appeared in a reasonable time with a farm wagon, drawn by an old
+horse that had seen better days, it is to be hoped, for she was a
+miserable-looking mare.
+
+“Jump in, Herbert,” said Ford.
+
+The boy obeyed, and sat on the front seat, between the driver and
+his abductor.
+
+“I suppose the horse is warranted not to run away?” said Ford,
+regarding the animal with a smile.
+
+“He ran away with me once,” was the unexpected answer.
+
+“When was that?”
+
+“'Bout fifteen years ago,” replied the driver, with grim humor. “I
+reckon he's steadied down by this time.”
+
+“It looks like it,” said Ford.
+
+“Know Joel Barton?” asked the station master, after a pause.
+
+“I saw him once when I was a boy.”
+
+“Any relation?”
+
+“He married a cousin of my stepmother. What sort of a man is he?”
+
+“He's a no-account man--shif'less, lazy--drinks.”
+
+“That agrees with what I have heard. How about his wife?”
+
+“She's smart enough. If he was like her they'd live comfortably. She
+has a hard time with him and Abner--Abner's her son, and just like
+his father, only doesn't drink yet. Like as not he will when he gets
+older.”
+
+Willis Ford was not the only listener to this colloquy. Herbert paid
+attention to every word, and in the poor boy's mind there was the
+uncomfortable query, “Why are we going to these people?” He would
+know soon, probably, but he had a presentiment of trouble.
+
+“Yes,” continued the station master, “Mrs. Barton has a hard row to
+hoe; but she's a match for Joel.”
+
+“What do you mean by that?”
+
+“She's got a temper of her own, and she can talk a man deaf, dumb,
+and blind. She gives Barton a piece of her mind whenever he comes
+home full.”
+
+“She ought to have that satisfaction. From what you tell me, I don't
+feel very proud of my unknown relatives.”
+
+“Goin' to stay there any length of time?”
+
+“I don't know my own plans yet,” answered Willis Ford, with a glance
+at the boy. He foresaw a scene when he announced his purpose to
+leave Herbert in this unpromising place, but he did not wish to
+anticipate it.
+
+“I suppose Barton is a farmer?” he suggested.
+
+“He pretends to be, but his farm doesn't pay much.”
+
+“What supports them?”
+
+“His wife takes in work from the tailors in the the village. Then
+they've got a cow, and she makes butter. As for Joel, he brings in
+precious little money. He might pick up a few dollars hirin' out by
+the day, if he wasn't so lazy. I had a job for him myself one day,
+but he knocked off at noon--said he was tuckered out, and wanted me
+to pay him for that half day. I knew well enough where the money
+would go, so I told him I wouldn't pay him unless he worked until
+sunset.”
+
+“Did he do it?”
+
+“Yes, he did; but he grumbled a good deal. When he got his pay he
+went over to Thompson's saloon, and he didn't leave it until all the
+money was spent. When his wife heard of it she was mad, and I expect
+she gave Joel a taste of the broom handle.”
+
+“I wouldn't blame her much.”
+
+“Nor I. But here we are. Yonder's Barton's house. Will you get out?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+Abner, who was sitting on a stump, no sooner saw the team stop than
+he ran into the house, in some excitement, to tell the news.
+
+“Marm,” he said, “there's a team stopped, and there's a man and boy
+gettin' out; 'spect they're coming here.”
+
+“Lord's sake! Who be they?”
+
+“Dunno.”
+
+“Well, go out and tell 'em I'll see' em in a minute.”
+
+Abner met them in front of the house.
+
+“Are you Joel Barton's son?” asked Ford.
+
+“That's what the old man says,” returned Abner, with a grin.
+
+“Is your mother at home?”
+
+“Marm will be right out. She's slickin' up. Who be you?”
+
+“You'll know in good time, my boy.” “Who's he? Is he your son?”
+
+“No,” answered Herbert promptly.
+
+Willis Ford turned upon his young ward with a frown. He understood
+the boy's tone.
+
+“It will be time to speak when you are spoken to,” he said sharply.
+
+“Here's marm'” said Abner, as his mother's tall figure appeared in
+the doorway.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII -- HERBERT IS PROVIDED WITH A NEW HOME
+
+
+
+Mrs. Barton regarded the newcomers with a wondering stare.
+
+“Did you want to see Joel?” she asked.
+
+“I shall be glad to see him in due time, Mrs. Barton,” returned
+Willis Ford, with unwonted politeness; “but I came principally to
+see you.”
+
+“Who be you?” inquired Mrs. Barton, unceremoniously; “I don't know
+you no more'n the dead.”
+
+“There is a slight connection between us, however. I am the stepson
+of Pauline Estabrook, of New York, who is a cousin of yours.”
+
+“You don't say Pauline is your mother?” ejaculated the lady of the
+house. “Well, I never expected to see kith or kin of hers out here.
+Is that your son?”
+
+“No, Mrs. Barton; but he is under my charge.”
+
+Herbert was about to disclaim this, but an ominous frown from Willis
+Ford intimidated him.
+
+“My name is Willis Ford; his is Sam Green.”
+
+Herbert's eyes opened wide with astonishment at this statement.
+
+“My name is--” he commenced.
+
+“Silence!” hissed Ford, with a menacing look. “You must not
+contradict me.”
+
+“I s'pose I ought to invite you to stay here,” said Mrs. Barton,
+awkwardly; “but he's so shif'less, and such a poor provider, that I
+ain't got anything in the house fit for dinner.”
+
+“Thank you,” returned Ford, with an inward shudder. “I shall dine at
+the hotel; but I have a little business matter to speak of, Mrs.
+Barton, and I would wish to speak in private. I will come into the
+house, with your permission, and we will leave the two boys
+together.”
+
+“Come right in,” said Mrs. Barton, whose curiosity was aroused.
+“Here, you Abner, just take care of the little boy.”
+
+Abner proceeded to do this, first thinking it necessary to ask a few
+questions.
+
+“Where do you live when you're at home, Sam?” he asked.
+
+“In New York; but my name isn't Sam,” replied Herbert.
+
+“What is it, then?”
+
+“Herbert.”
+
+“What makes him call you Sam, then?” asked Abner, with a jerk of the
+finger toward the house.
+
+“I don't know, except he is afraid I will be found.”
+
+Abner looked puzzled.
+
+“Is he your guardeen?” he asked.
+
+“No; he was my father's clerk.”
+
+“Ho! Did your father have clerks?”
+
+“Yes; he is a rich man and does business in New York.”
+
+“What made him send you out here?”
+
+“He didn't.”
+
+“Then why did you come?”
+
+“Mr. Ford was mad with papa, and stole me away.”
+
+“He wouldn't steal me away easy!” said Abner, defiantly; “but, then,
+I ain't a little kid like you.”
+
+“I'm not a kid,” said Herbert, who was not used to slang.
+
+“Oh, you don't know what I mean--you're a little boy and couldn't do
+nothin'. If he tried to take me, he'd find his hands full.”
+
+Herbert, who was not very much prepossessed by Abner's appearance,
+thought it very doubtful whether any one would ever attempt to
+kidnap him.
+
+“What's he goin' to do with you?” continued Abner.
+
+“I don't know. I expect he'll make papa pay a good sum to get me
+back.”
+
+“Humph!” remarked Abner, surveying with some contempt the small
+proportions of the boy before him. “You ain't much good. I don't
+believe he'll pay much for you.”
+
+Tears sprang to the eyes of the little boy, but he forced them back.
+
+“My papa would think differently,” he said.
+
+“Papa!” mimicked Abner. “Oh, how nice we are! Why don't you say dad,
+like I do?”
+
+“Because it isn't a nice name. Papa wouldn't like to have me call
+him so.”
+
+“Where did you get them clothes? I don't think much of 'em.”
+
+“Nor I,” answered Herbert. “They're not my own clothes. Mr. Ford
+bought them for me in Chicago.”
+
+“He must like you, to buy you new clothes.”
+
+“No, he doesn't. My own clothes were much nicer. He sold them. He
+was afraid some one would know me in the others.”
+
+“I wonder what he and marm are talking about so long?”
+
+This question Herbert was unable to answer. He did not guess how
+nearly this conversation affected him.
+
+No sooner had the two entered the house than Willis Ford began.
+
+“Mrs. Barton,” he said, “I'll tell you now what brought me here.”
+
+“Go ahead,” said the lady, encouragingly.
+
+“I want you to take the boy I have brought with me to board.”
+
+“Land sakes! I don't keep a boardin' house!”
+
+“No; but if I will make it worth your while you will take him, won't
+you?”
+
+“How much will you give?” asked Mrs. Barton, shrewdly.
+
+“Four dollars a week.”
+
+“He'll be a sight of trouble,” said the lady; but there was
+something in her tone that satisfied Ford that she was favorably
+inclined to the proposal.
+
+“Oh, no, he won't. He's so small that you can twist him round your
+finger. Besides, Abner will be company for him. He will be with him
+most of the time.”
+
+“Say five dollars and it's a bargain,” said Mrs. Barton.
+
+Ford hesitated. He did not care to spend more than he was obliged
+to, but it was of importance to obtain at least a temporary refuge
+for the boy, of whose care he was heartily tired. It seemed to him
+that five dollars would be enough to support the whole family in the
+style in which they were apparently accustomed to live. However, it
+was politic to make the sum sufficient to interest these people in
+retaining charge of the boy.
+
+“Well,” he said, after a pause, “it's more than I expected to pay,
+but I suppose I shall have to accept your terms. I conclude Mr.
+Barton will not object to your taking a boarder?”
+
+“Oh, Joel is of no account,” returned Mrs. Barton, contemptuously.
+“I run this house!”
+
+Willis Ford suppressed a smile. He could easily believe from Mrs.
+Barton's appearance that she was the head of the establishment.
+
+“There's one thing more,” added Mrs. Barton; “you're to pay the
+money to me. Jest as sure as it goes into Joel's hands, it'll go for
+drink. The way that man carries on is a disgrace.”
+
+“I should prefer to pay the money to you,” said Ford.
+
+“You'll have to pay somethin' in advance, if you want the boy to
+have anythin' to eat. I've got to send to the village, and I haven't
+got a cent in the house.”
+
+Willis Ford took out a pocketbook. Extracting therefrom four
+five-dollar bills, he handed them to Mrs. Barton.
+
+“There's money for four weeks,” he said. “When that time is up I'll
+send you more.”
+
+Mrs. Barton's eyes sparkled, and she eagerly clutched the money.
+
+“I ain't seen so much money for years,” she said. “I'll jest look
+out Joel don't get hold of it. Don't you tell Joel or Abner how much
+you've paid me.”
+
+“I'll take care of that, Mrs. Barton. By the way, I must caution you
+not to believe any of the boy's stories. He's the son of a friend of
+mine, who's put him under my care. The boy's weak-minded, and has
+strange fancies. He thinks his name isn't Sam Green, and that his
+father is rich. Why, only the other day he insisted his name was
+George Washington.”
+
+“Land's sake! How cur'us!” “Of course; you won't pay any attention
+to what he says. He may take it into his head to run away. If he
+does, you must get him back.”
+
+“You can trust me to do that!” said Mrs. Barton, with emphasis. “I
+ain't goin' to let no five-dollar boarder slip through my fingers!”
+
+“That's well! Now I must be going. You will hear from me from time
+to time.”
+
+He passed through the front door into the yard.
+
+“Good-by!” he said.
+
+Herbert was about to follow him, but he waived him back.
+
+“You are not to come with me, Sam,” he said. “I shall leave you for
+a few weeks with this good lady.”
+
+Herbert stared at him in dismay. This was something he had never
+dreamed of.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX -- INTRODUCES MR. BARTON
+
+
+
+When Herbert realized that he was to be left behind he ran after
+Willis Ford, and pleaded for the privilege of accompanying him.
+“Don't leave me here, Mr. Ford!” he said. “I should die of
+homesickness!”
+
+“So you would rather go with me?” Ford said, with an amused smile.
+
+“Oh, yes, much rather!”
+
+“I had not supposed you valued my company so highly. I ought to feel
+complimented. I am sorry to disappoint you, but I shall have to
+leave you here for a few weeks. This good lady will take good care
+of you.”
+
+Herbert stole a glance at Mrs. Barton, who was watching him with
+mingled contempt and impatience, but he did not become any more
+reconciled to the prospect. He reiterated his request.
+
+“I have had enough of this,” said Ford, sternly. “You will stop
+making a fuss if you know what is best for yourself. Good-by! You
+will hear from me soon.”
+
+Herbert realized the uselessness of his resistance, and sank
+despondently upon the grass.
+
+“Is he goin' to stay here, marm?” asked Abner, curiously.
+
+“Yes; he's goin' to board with us.”
+
+“Ho, ho!” laughed Abner; “he'll have a nice boardin' place!”
+
+“Abner, you jest shut up, or I'll take a stick to you! You needn't
+make him any more homesick than he is. Just try ef you can't amuse
+him.”
+
+“Say, Sam, I guess we'll have a stavin' time together,” said Abner,
+really pleased to have a companion. “What'll we do? Want to play
+leapfrog?”
+
+“I don't feel like playing,” answered Herbert, despondently.
+
+“We might go fishin',” suggested Abner. “There's a pond only a
+quarter of a mile from here.”
+
+“I don't know how to fish,” said Herbert.
+
+“Don't know how to fish? What do you know how to do?”
+
+“We don't have any chance in New York.”
+
+“Say,” exclaimed Abner, with sudden interest, “is New York a nice
+place?”
+
+“I wish I was back there. I never shall be happy anywhere's else.”
+
+“Tell me what you fellows do there. I dunno but I'd like to go
+myself.”
+
+Before Herbert had a chance to answer Mrs. Barton broke in:
+
+“Abner, you take care of Sam while I go to the village.”
+
+“What are you goin' there for, marm?”
+
+“I'm going to buy some sausages for dinner. We haven't got anything
+in the house.”
+
+“Me and Sam will go, if you'll give us the money.”
+
+“I know you too well, Abner Barton. I won't trust you with the
+money. Ef I gave you a five-dollar bill, I'd never see any on't back
+again.”
+
+“Say, mam, you haven't got a five-dollar bill, have you?” asked
+Abner, with distended eyes.
+
+“Never you mind!”
+
+“I'll tell dad ef you don't give me some.”
+
+“You jest dare to do it!” returned Mrs. Barton, in a menacing tone.
+“Your father ain't got nothin' to do with it. It's money for Sam's
+board.”
+
+“My name isn't Sam,” expostulated Herbert, who had a natural
+preference for his own appellation.
+
+“That's what I'm goin' to call you. You can call yourself George
+Washington, or General Jackson, ef you want to. Mebbe you're
+Christopher Columbus.”
+
+“My name is Herbert Reynolds,” said Herbert, annoyed.
+
+“That's what you call yourself to-day. There's no knowin' who you'll
+be to-morrow.”
+
+“Don't you believe me, Mrs. Barton?” asked Herbert, distressed.
+
+“No, I don't. The man who brung you--I dis-remember his name--”
+
+“Willis Ford.”
+
+“Well, Willis Ford, then! It seems you know his name. Well, he told
+me you was loony, and thought you was somebody else than your own
+self.”
+
+“He told you that I was crazy?” ejaculated Herbert.
+
+“Yes; and I have no doubt it's so.”
+
+“It's a wicked lie!” exclaimed Herbert, indignantly; “and I'd like
+to tell him so to his face.”
+
+“Well, you won't have a chance for some time. But I can't stand here
+talkin'. I must be goin' to the store. You two behave yourselves
+while I'm gone!”
+
+Herbert felt so dull and dispirited that he did not care to speak,
+but Abner's curiosity had been excited about New York, and he plied
+his young companion with questions, which Herbert answered wearily.
+Though he responded listlessly, and did not say any more than he
+felt obliged to, he excited Abner's interest.
+
+“I mean to go to New York some time,” he said. “Is it far?”
+
+“It's as much as a thousand miles. It may be more.”
+
+“Phew! That's a big distance. How did you come?”
+
+“We came in the cars.”
+
+“Did it cost much?”
+
+“I don't know. Mr. Ford paid for the tickets.”
+
+“Has he got plenty of money?”
+
+“I don't think he has. He used to be pa's clerk.”
+
+“I wish we had enough money. You and me would start some fine
+mornin', and mebbe your father would give me something to do when we
+got there.”
+
+For the first time Herbert began to feel an interest in the
+conversation.
+
+“Oh, I wish we could,” he said, fervently. “I know pa would give you
+a lot of money for bringing me back.”
+
+“Do you really think he would?” asked Abner, briskly.
+
+“I know he would. But your mother wouldn't let us go.”
+
+“She wouldn't know it,” said Abner, winking.
+
+“You wouldn't run away from home?” questioned Herbert.
+
+“Why wouldn't I? What's to keep me here? Marm's always scoldin', and
+dad gets drunk whenever he has any money to spend for drink. I
+reckon they wouldn't care much if I made myself scarce.”
+
+Herbert was not sure whether he ought not to feel shocked. He
+admitted to himself, however, that if he had a father and mother
+answering the description of Abner's, that he would not so much
+regret leaving them. At any rate, Abner's words awoke a hope of
+sometime getting away from the place he already hated, and returning
+to his city home, now more valued than ever.
+
+“We can't go without money,” he said, in a troubled voice.
+
+“Couldn't we walk?”
+
+“It's too far, and I'm not strong.”
+
+“I could walk it, ef I took time enough,” asserted Abner,
+positively. “Hello! there's dad!”
+
+Herbert looked up, and, following Abner's glance, saw a man
+approaching the farmhouse. Mr. Barton--for it was he--was a tall
+man, shabbily attired, his head crowned with a battered hat, whose
+gait indicated a little uncertainty, and betrayed some difficulty
+about the maintenance of his equilibrium.
+
+“Is that your father?” asked Herbert.
+
+“It's the old man, sure enough. He's about half full.”
+
+“What's that?”
+
+“He's been drinkin', as usual; but he didn't drink enough to make
+him tight. Guess his funds give out.”
+
+Herbert was rather shocked at Abner's want of respect in speaking of
+his father, but even to him Mr. Barton hardly seemed like a man who
+could command a son's respect.
+
+“Wonder whether dad met marm on the way?” said Abner, musing.
+
+By this time, Mr. Barton had entered the yard, and caught sight of
+his son and Herbert.
+
+“Abner,” said he, in a thick voice, “who's that boy?”
+
+“Then he didn't meet marm,” thought Abner. “He's a boy that's goin'
+to board with us, dad,” he answered.
+
+“You don't say! Glad to make your acquaintance, boy,” he said,
+straightening up.
+
+“Thank you, sir,” answered Herbert, faintly.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX -- A MODEL HOUSEHOLD
+
+
+
+“When did you come?” asked Barton, steadying himself against a tree.
+
+“Half an hour ago,” answered Abner, for Herbert was gazing, with a
+repulsion he found it difficult to conceal, at Barton, whose flushed
+face and thick utterance indicated his condition very clearly.
+
+“Who came with him?” continued Barton.
+
+“You'd better ask marm. She attended to the business. It was a young
+man.”
+
+“Where is she?”
+
+“Gone to the village to buy some sassiges for dinner.”
+
+“Good!” exclaimed Barton, in a tone of satisfaction. “I'll stay at
+home to dinner to-day. Did the man pay your mother any money?”
+
+“I s'pose so, or she wouldn't be buyin' sassiges. Old Schickman
+won't trust us any more.”
+
+“The money should have been paid to me. I'll see about it when your
+marm comes back from the store.”
+
+“You'd spend it all for drink, dad,” said Abner.
+
+“How dare you speak so to your father, you ungrateful young dog!”
+
+He essayed to reach Abner to strike him, but his dutiful son dodged
+easily, and his father, being unsteady on his legs, fell on the
+ground.
+
+Abner laughed, but Herbert was too much shocked to share in his
+enjoyment.
+
+“Come here and help me up, you Abner!” said his father.
+
+“Not much, dad! If you hadn't tried to lick me you wouldn't have
+fallen!”
+
+“Let me help you, sir!” said Herbert, conquering his instinctive
+disgust and approaching the fallen man.
+
+“You're a gentleman!” murmured Barton, as he took the little boy's
+proffered hand and, after considerable ado, raised himself to a
+standing position. “You're a gentleman; I wish I had a boy like
+you.”
+
+Herbert could not join in the wish. He felt that a father like Joel
+Barton would be a great misfortune.
+
+But just then Mrs. Barton entered the yard, marching with long
+strides like a man's.
+
+“Here's marm!” announced Abner.
+
+Barton steadied himself as he turned to look at his wife.
+
+“I want to see you, Mrs. B.,” he said. “When are you goin' to have
+dinner?”
+
+“Never, if I depended on you to supply the vittles!” she answered,
+bluntly.
+
+“Don't speak so before a stranger,” said Barton, with a hiccough.
+“You hurt my feelin's.”
+
+“Your feelin's are tough, and so are mine by this time.”
+
+“What have you got there?”
+
+“Some sassiges. Ef you want your share, you'll have to be on time. I
+shan't save you any.”
+
+“How much money did the man pay you, Mrs. B.?”
+
+“That's my business!” retorted his wife, shortly.
+
+“Mrs. B.,” said her husband, straightening up, “I want you to
+understand that I'm the master of this house, and it's my right to
+take care of the money. You'll oblige me by handin' it over.”
+
+“I'll do nothing of the sort, Joel Barton! You'd only spend it for
+drink.”
+
+“Would you grudge me the few pennies I spend for drink? My system
+requires it. That's what the doctor says.”
+
+“Then you must find the money for it yourself. My system requires
+something to eat, and, ef I take a boarder, he's got to have
+something to eat, too.”
+
+“Mrs. B., I didn't think your heart was so hard,” said Barton, in a
+maudlin tone.
+
+“Look here, Joel Barton; you might as well stop such foolish talk.
+It won't do no good. I can't stay here all day. I must go and be
+gettin' dinner.”
+
+Had Barton succeeded in raising money from his wife, he would
+probably have returned at once to the tavern, and his place would
+have been vacant at the dinner table. Failing in this, he lay back
+and fell asleep, and was not roused till dinner time.
+
+Mrs. Barton was a fair cook, and Herbert ate with an unexpected
+relish. It is needless to say that Abner also did full justice to
+the meal.
+
+“I say, Sam,” he said, “I'm glad you've come.”
+
+Herbert was hardly prepared to agree with him.
+
+“Now we'll have to live better,” Abner explained. “Mam and I
+gen'ally have to skirmish round for vittles. We don't often get
+meat.”
+
+This frank confession rather alarmed Herbert. He was not over
+self-indulgent, but he had never lacked for nourishing food, and the
+prospect of an uncertain supply was not encouraging.
+
+When dinner was over--there was no second course--they left the
+table. Joel Barton made a fresh attempt to extort a small sum from
+his wife, but was met with an inflexible refusal. Mrs. Barton proved
+deaf alike to entreaties and threats. She was a strong, resolute
+woman, and not one to be intimidated.
+
+When Barton left the house, his look of disappointment had given
+place to one of cunning.
+
+“Come here, Abner!” he said, beckoning to his son and heir.
+
+“What for?”
+
+“Never you mind.”
+
+“But I do mind. Do you want to catch hold of me?”
+
+“No; it's only a little matter of business. It's for your good.”
+
+Abner accompanied his father as far as the fence.
+
+“Now, what do you want?” he asked, with his eyes warily fixed on his
+father.
+
+“I want you to find out where your marm keeps that money,” said
+Barton, in a coaxing tone.
+
+“What for?”
+
+“You're to take it and bring it to me.”
+
+“And go without eatin'?”
+
+“I'll buy the provisions myself. I'm the head of the family.”
+
+“Do you want me to hook money from marm?”
+
+“'Twon't be hookin'. The money by right belongs to me. Ain't I the
+head of the family?”
+
+“I dunno about that. Marm's the boss, and always has been,” chuckled
+Abner.
+
+Joel frowned, but immediately tried another attack.
+
+“Of course I'll give you some of it, Abner,” he resumed. “If there's
+five dollars I'll give you a quarter.”
+
+“I'll see about it, dad.”
+
+“Get it for me before evenin', if you can. I shall need it then.”
+
+Abner returned to Herbert, and frankly related the conversation that
+had taken place between himself and his father.
+
+Herbert was shocked. He did not know what to think of the singular
+family he had got into.
+
+“You won't do it, will you?” he asked, startled.
+
+“No, I won't. I want a quarter bad enough, but I'd rather mam would
+keep the money. She'll spend it for vittles, and dad would spend it
+for drink. Wouldn't you like to go a-fishin'? It's fine weather, and
+we'll have fun.”
+
+Herbert assented, not knowing how to dispose of his time. Abner
+turned the conversation again on New York. What Herbert had already
+told him had powerfully impressed his imagination.
+
+“Haven't you got any money?” he asked.
+
+“No,” answered Herbert. “Mr. Ford took away all I had, except this.”
+
+He drew from his pocket a nickel.
+
+“That won't do no good,” said Abner, disappointed. “Stop a minute,
+though,” he added, after a minute's pause. “Wouldn't your folks send
+you some money, if you should write to them?”
+
+“Yes,” answered Herbert, his face brightening. “Why didn't I think
+of that before? If I could get me paper and ink I'd write at once to
+papa. I know he'd either send the money or come for me.”
+
+“We'll go to the post office,” said Abner. “There you can buy some
+paper and a postage stamp. You've got just money enough. There's a
+pen and ink there.”
+
+“Let us go at once,” said Herbert, eagerly.
+
+The boys took their way to the village. The letter was written and
+posted, and a burden was lifted from the boy's mind. He felt that
+his father would seek him out at once, and he could bear his present
+position for a short time. But, alas! for poor Herbert--the letter
+never came into his father's hands. Why, the reader will learn in
+the next chapter.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI -- THE HOUSEKEEPER'S CRIME
+
+
+
+It is not to be supposed that during this time the family of the
+missing boy were idle. The mysterious disappearance of his only son
+filled his father's heart with anguish, and he took immediate steps
+to penetrate the mystery. Not only was the fullest information given
+to the police, but an experienced detective connected with a private
+agency was detailed for the search. The matter also got into the
+papers, and Herbert, in his Western home, little suspected that his
+name had already become a household word in thousands of families.
+
+Days passed, and in spite of the efforts that were being made to
+discover him, no clew had been obtained by Herbert's friends, either
+as to his whereabouts, or as to the identity of the party or parties
+hat had abducted him. It is needless to say that Grant heartily
+sympathized with the afflicted father, and was sad on his own
+account, for he had become warmly attached to the little boy whose
+instant companion he had been in his hours of leisure.
+
+The only one in the house who took the matter coolly was Mrs.
+Estabrook, the housekeeper. She even ventured to suggest that
+Herbert had run away.
+
+“What do you mean, Mrs. Estabrook?” exclaimed the father,
+impatiently. “You ought to know my poor boy better than that!”
+
+“Boys are a worrisome set,” returned the housekeeper, composedly.
+“Only last week I read in the Herald about two boys who ran away
+from good homes and went out to kill Indians.”
+
+“Herbert was not that kind of a boy,” said Grant. “He had no
+fondness for adventure.”
+
+“I have known Herbert longer than you, young man,” retorted the
+housekeeper, with a sneer.
+
+“It is very clear that you didn't know him as well,” said Mr.
+Reynolds.
+
+Mrs. Estabrook sniffed, but said nothing. Without expressly saying
+so, it was evident that she dissented from Mr. Reynolds' opinion.
+
+The broker's loss unfitted him for work, and he left the details of
+office work to his subordinates, while nearly all his time was spent
+in interviews with the police authorities or in following up faint
+clews. His loss seemed to strengthen the intimacy and attachment
+between him and Grant, in whom he confided without reserve. When at
+home in the evening he talked over with Grant, whom he found a
+sympathetic listener, the traits of the stolen boy, and brought up
+reminiscences, trifling, perhaps, but touching, under the
+circumstances. To Mrs. Estabrook he seldom spoke of his son. Her
+cold and unsympathetic temperament repelled him. She had never
+preferred to feel any attachment for Herbert, and the boy, quick to
+read her want of feeling, never cared to be with her.
+
+One morning, after Mr. Reynolds and Grant had gone out, Mrs.
+Estabrook, on going to the hall, saw a letter on the table, which
+had been left by the postman. As curiosity was by no means lacking
+in the housekeeper's composition, she took it up, and peered at the
+address through her glasses.
+
+It was directed to Mr. Reynolds in a round, schoolboy hand.
+
+Mrs. Estabrook's heart gave a sudden jump of excitement.
+
+“It's Herbert's handwriting,” she said to herself.
+
+She examined the postmark, and found that it was mailed at Scipio,
+Illinois.
+
+She held the letter in her hand and considered what she should do.
+Should the letter come into the hands of Mr. Reynolds, the result
+would doubtless be that the boy would be recovered, and would reveal
+the name of his abductor. This would subject her favorite, Willis
+Ford, to arrest, and probably imprisonment.
+
+“He should have been more careful, and not allowed the boy to
+write,” said the housekeeper to herself. “Willis must have been very
+imprudent. If I only knew what was in the letter!”
+
+The housekeeper's curiosity became so ungovernable that she decided
+to open it. By steaming it, she could do it, and if it seemed
+expedient, paste it together again. She had little compunction in
+the matter. In a few minutes she was able to withdraw the letter
+from the envelope and read its contents.
+
+This is what Herbert wrote:
+
+“Scipio, ILL.
+
+“DEAR PAPA: I know you must have been very anxious about me. I would
+have written you before, but I have had no chance. Willis Ford found
+me playing in the street, and got me to go with him by saying you
+had sent for me. I thought it strange you should have sent Mr. Ford,
+but I didn't like to refuse, for fear it was true. We went on board
+a steamer in the harbor, and Mr. Ford took me in a stateroom. Then
+he put a handkerchief to my face, and I became sleepy. When I waked
+up, we were at sea. I don't know where I went, but when we came to
+land, some time the next day, we got into the cars and traveled for
+a couple of days. I begged Mr. Ford to take me home, but it made him
+cross. I think he hates you and Grant, and I think he took me away
+to spite you. I am sure he is a very wicked man.
+
+“Finally we came to this place. It is a small place in Illinois. The
+people who live here are Mr. and Mrs. Barton and their son Abner.
+Mr. Joel Barton is a drunkard. He gets drunk whenever he has money
+to buy whisky. Mrs. Barton is a hard-working woman, and she does
+about all the work that is done. Mr. Ford paid her some money in
+advance. She is a tall woman, and her voice sounds like a man's. She
+does not ill treat me, but I wish I were at home. Abner is a big,
+rough boy, a good deal older and larger than I am, but he is kind to
+me and he wants to come to New York. He says he will run away and
+take me with him, if we can get enough money to pay our fares. I
+don't think we could walk it so far. Abner might, for he is a good
+deal stronger than I am, but I know I should get very tired.
+
+“Now, dear papa, if you will send me money enough to pay for
+railroad tickets, Abner and I will start just as soon as we get it.
+I don't know as he ought to run away from home, but he says his
+father and mother don't care for him, and I don't believe they do.
+His father doesn't care for anything but whisky, and his mother is
+scolding him all the time. I don't think she would do that if she
+cared much for him, do you?
+
+“I have filled the paper, and must stop. Be sure to send the money
+to your loving son,
+
+“HERBERT REYNOLDS.”
+
+“How easy you write!” said Abner, in wonder, as he saw Herbert's
+letter growing long before his eyes. “It would take me a week to
+write as long a letter as that, and then I couldn't do it.”
+
+“I can't write so easy generally,” said the little boy, “but, you
+see, I have a good deal to write about.”
+
+“Then there's another thing,” said Abner. “I shouldn't know how to
+spell so many words. You must be an awful good scholar.”
+
+“I always liked to study,” said Herbert. “Don't you like to read and
+study?”
+
+“No; I'd rather play ball or go fishin', wouldn't you?”
+
+“I like to play part of the time, but I wouldn't like to grow up
+ignorant.”
+
+“I expect I'll always be a know-nothin', but I reckon I know as much
+as dad. The old man's awful ignorant. He don't care for nothin' but
+whisky.”
+
+“And I hope you won't be like him in that, Abner.”
+
+“No, I won't. I wouldn't like to have the boys flingin' stones at
+me, as they did at dad once when he was tight. I licked a couple of
+'em.”
+
+Mrs. Estabrook read Herbert's letter with intense interest. She saw
+that the little boy's testimony would seriously incriminate Willis
+Ford, if he were recovered, as he would be if this letter came into
+his father's hands.
+
+“There's only one thing to do,” the housekeeper reflected, closing
+her thin lips tightly.
+
+She lit the gas jet in her chamber, and, without a trace of
+compunction, held the letter in the flame until it was thoroughly
+consumed.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII -- HOPE DEFERRED
+
+
+
+Day after day Herbert and Abner went to the post office and inquired
+for letters, but alas! none came. Poor Herbert was in despair. He
+thought his father would have instantly sent the money, or come out
+himself to take him home. Was it possible his father had forgotten
+him, or was indifferent to his absence? He could not believe it, but
+what was he to think?
+
+“I reckon your father didn't get the letter,” suggested Abner.
+
+Herbert hailed this suggestion with relief.
+
+“Or, maybe, marm has told the postmaster to give her any letters
+that come.”
+
+This suggestion, too, seemed not improbable.
+
+“What can we do?” asked Herbert, helplessly. “I reckon we'd better
+run away.”
+
+“Without money?”
+
+“We'll hire out to somebody for a week or two and write from where
+we are.”
+
+“I'm afraid I couldn't do much work,” said the little boy.
+
+“Then I'll work for both,” said Abner, stoutly. “I've got tired of
+stayin' at home, anyway.”
+
+“I'll do whatever you say,” said Herbert, feeling that any change
+would be for the better.
+
+“I'll tell you when I'm ready,” said Abner. “We'll start some time
+when marm's gone to the village.”
+
+There was another reason for Herbert's being dissatisfied with his
+new home. A month had passed--the full time for which Willis Ford
+had paid the boy's board--and there were no indications that any
+more was to be paid. During the the first week the fare had been
+tolerable, though Mrs. Barton was not a skillful cook; but now there
+was no money left, and the family fell back upon what their limited
+resources could supply. Mush and milk now constituted their
+principal diet. It is well enough occasionally, but, when furnished
+at every meal, both Herbert and Abner became tired of it.
+
+“Haven't you got anything else for dinner, marm?” asked Abner,
+discontentedly.
+
+“No, I haven't,” answered the mother, snappishly.
+
+“You used to have sassiges and bacon.”
+
+“That was when I had money to buy 'em.”
+
+“Where's all that money gone the man left with him?” indicating
+Herbert.
+
+“It's spent, and I wish Willis Ford would send along some more
+mighty quick. He needn't expect me to take a free boarder.”
+
+She looked severely at Herbert, as if he were in fault. Certainly
+the poor boy had no desire to live on the liberality of Mrs. Barton.
+
+“Maybe he's sent you some money in a letter,” suggested Abner.
+
+“Well, I never thought of that. It's a bright idee, ef it did come
+from you, Abner Barton. Jest go up to the postoffice after dinner,
+and ask if there's any letter for me. Ef there is, mind you, don't
+open it.”
+
+“All right, marm.”
+
+“Come along, bub,” said Abner.
+
+This was the name he gave to Herbert, whom he liked in his own rough
+way.
+
+“I don't think,” said Herbert, as they walked along, “that your
+mother can have got any letter written by my father. If she had, she
+would not be out of money.”
+
+“I reckon you're right. Do you think that Ford feller will send
+money for your board?”
+
+“I think he will, if he can, for he wants to keep me here; but I
+don't think he has much money with him.”
+
+“All the worse for marm.”
+
+“Abner,” said Herbert, after a pause, during which he had been
+thinking seriously, “would you mind running away pretty soon?”
+
+“No, bub; I'm ready any time. Are you in a hurry?”
+
+“You see, Abner, I don't want to live on your mother. She isn't
+rich--”
+
+“No, I guess not. Ef she hadn't married sech a good-for-nothin' as
+dad--”
+
+“I wouldn't speak so of your father, Abner.”
+
+“Why not? Isn't it the truth? Dad's no grit. He gits drunk whenever
+he has a chance. Marm's a good, hard-workin' woman. She'd git along
+well enough ef she was alone.”
+
+“At any rate, she can't afford to board me for nothing. So I am
+ready to start whenever you are, Abner.”
+
+“Suppose we get up early to-morror and start?”
+
+“How early?”
+
+“Three o'clock. Marm gets up at five. We must be on the road before
+that time.”
+
+“I'm willing, Abner. You must wake me up in time.”
+
+“You'd better go to bed early, bub, and git all the sleep you can.
+We'll have a hard day to-morrer.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIII -- THE JOURNEY BEGINS
+
+
+
+“Wake up, there.”
+
+The little boy stirred in his sleep, and finally opened his eyes. By
+the faint light that entered through the window, he saw Abner
+bending over him.
+
+“What is it?” he asked, drowsily.
+
+“The kitchen clock's just struck three,” whispered Abner. “You
+haven't forgotten that we are going to run away, have you?”
+
+“I'll get right up,” said Herbert, rubbing his eyes.
+
+In two minutes the boys were dressed and ready for a start. It had
+taken a great deal longer for Herbert to dress at home, but he had
+become less particular as to his toilet now.
+
+The boys took their shoes in their hands, and stole out in their
+stocking feet. As they passed the door of the room in which Mr. and
+Mrs. Barton slept, they heard the deep breathing of both, and knew
+that they were not likely to be heard.
+
+Outside the door they put on their shoes, and were now ready to
+start.
+
+“Wait a minute, bub,” said Abner.
+
+He re-entered the house, and presently came out holding half a loaf
+in his hand.
+
+“That'll do for our breakfast,” he said. “We won't eat it now. We'll
+wait till five o'clock. Then we'll be hungry.”
+
+By five o'clock they were as many miles on their way. They had
+reached the middle of the next town.
+
+“Do you feel tired, bub?” asked Abner.
+
+“A little. I feel hungry. Don't you think we can eat the bread now?”
+
+“Yes, we'd better. I feel kind o' gone myself.”
+
+They sat down under a tree, and Abner divided the bread fairly.
+
+“You ought to have more than I,” protested Herbert. “You're bigger
+than I, and need more.”
+
+“Never mind that! You'll need it to keep up your strength.”
+
+Abner was not naturally unselfish, but he was manly enough to feel
+that he ought to be generous and kind to a boy so much smaller, and
+he felt repaid for his self-denial by noticing the evident relish
+with which Herbert ate his allowance of bread, even to the smallest
+crumb.
+
+They found a spring, which yielded them a cool, refreshing draught,
+and soon were on their way once more. They had proceeded perhaps two
+miles further, when the rumbling of wheels was heard behind them,
+and a farm wagon soon came up alongside. The driver was a man of
+about thirty--sunburned and roughly clad.
+
+“Whoa, there,” he said.
+
+The horse stopped.
+
+“Where are you two goin'?” he asked.
+
+“We're travelin',” answered Abner, noncommittally.
+
+“Where's your home?”
+
+“Some ways back.”
+
+“Where are you goin'?”
+
+“I'm after work,” answered Abner.
+
+“Well, you'd orter be a good hand at it. You look strong. Is that
+little feller your brother?”
+
+“No; he's my cousin.”
+
+Herbert looked up in surprise at this avowal of relationship, but he
+thought it best not to say anything that would conflict with Abner's
+statement.
+
+“Is he after work, too?” asked the driver, with a smile.
+
+“No; he's goin' to his father.”
+
+“Where does he live?”
+
+“Further on.”
+
+“Have you walked fur?”
+
+“Pretty fur.”
+
+“Ef you want to ride, I'll give you a lift for a few miles.”
+
+“Thank you,” said Abner, prompt to accept the offer. “I'll help you
+in, bub.”
+
+The two boys took their seats beside the driver, Herbert being in
+the middle. The little boy was really tired, and he found it very
+pleasant to ride, instead of walking. He had walked seven miles
+already, and that was more than he had ever before walked at one
+time.
+
+They rode about three miles, when the driver pulled up in front of a
+comfortable-looking house.
+
+“This is where I stop,” he said. “My aunt lives here, and my sister
+has been paying her a visit. I've come to take her home.”
+
+The front door was opened, and his aunt and sister came out.
+
+“You're just in time for breakfast, John,” said his aunt. “Come in
+and sit down to the table. Bring in the boys, too.”
+
+“Come in, boys,” said the young man. “I guess you can eat something,
+can't you?”
+
+“We've had---” Herbert began, but Abner checked him.
+
+“Come along, bub,” he said. “What's a bit of bread? I ain't half
+full.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV -- MRS. BARTON'S SURPRISE
+
+
+
+A hearty breakfast, consisting of beefsteak, potatoes, corn bread,
+fresh butter and apple sauce, made Abner's eyes glisten, for he had
+never in his remembrance sat down at home to a meal equally
+attractive. He wielded his knife and fork with an activity and
+energy which indicated thorough enjoyment. Even Herbert, though in
+the city his appetite had been delicate, and he had already eaten
+part of a loaf of bread, did excellent justice to the good things
+set before him. He was himself surprised at his extraordinary
+appetite, forgetting the stimulating effect of a seven-mile walk.
+
+After breakfast they set out again on their tramp. At sunset, having
+rested several hours in the middle of the day, they had accomplished
+twenty miles. Abner could have gone further, but Herbert was well
+tired out. They obtained permission from a friendly farmer to spend
+the night in his barn, and retired at half-past seven. Mr. Reynolds
+would have been shocked had he known that his little son was
+compelled to sleep on a pile of hay, but it may truthfully be said
+that Herbert had seldom slept as soundly or felt more refreshed.
+
+“How did you sleep, Abner?” he asked.
+
+“Like a top. How was it with you, bub?”
+
+“I didn't wake up all night,” answered the little boy.
+
+“I wonder what dad and marm thought when they found us gone?” said
+Abner, with a grin.
+
+“Won't they feel bad?”
+
+“Not much,” said Abner. “They ain't that kind. I reckon it won't
+spoil their appetite.”
+
+When they descended from the haymow, the farmer was milking his
+cows.
+
+“Well, youngsters,” he said, “so you're up and dressed?”
+
+“Yes, sir.”
+
+“And ready for breakfast, I'll be bound.”
+
+“I reckon I should feel better for eatin',” said Abner, promptly.
+
+“Jest you wait till I get through milkin', and we'll see what Mrs.
+Wiggins has got for us.”
+
+Abner heard these words with joy, for he was always possessed of a
+good appetite.
+
+“I say, bub, I'm glad I run away,” he remarked, aside, to Herbert.
+“We live enough sight better than we did at home.”
+
+Leaving the boys to pursue their journey, we will return to the
+bereaved parents, and inquire how they bore their loss.
+
+When Mrs. Barton rose to commence the labors of the day, she found
+that no wood was on hand for the kitchen fire.
+
+“Abner's gittin' lazier and lazier,” she soliloquized. “I'll soon
+have him up.”
+
+She went to the foot of the stairs, and called “Abner!” in a voice
+by no means low or gentle.
+
+There was no answer.
+
+“That boy would sleep if there was an earthquake,” she muttered.
+“Come down here and split some wood, you lazy boy!” she cried, still
+louder.
+
+Again no answer.
+
+“He hears, fast enough, but he don't want to work. I'll soon have
+him down.”
+
+She ascended the stairs, two steps at a time, and opened the door of
+her son's room.
+
+If Abner had been in bed his mother would have pulled him out, for
+her arm was vigorous, but the bed was empty.
+
+“Well, I vum!” she ejaculated, in surprise. “Ef that boy isn't up
+already. That's a new wrinkle. And the little boy gone, too. What
+can it mean?”
+
+It occurred to Mrs. Barton that Abner and Herbert might have got up
+early to go fishing, though she had never known him to make so early
+a start before.
+
+“I reckon breakfast'll bring 'em round,” she said to herself. “I
+reckon I shall have to split the wood myself.”
+
+In half an hour breakfast was ready. It was of a very simple
+character, for the family resources were limited. Mr. Barton came
+downstairs, and looked discontentedly at the repast provided.
+
+“This is a pretty mean breakfast, Mrs. B.,” he remarked. “Where's
+your meat and taters?”
+
+“There's plenty of 'em in the market,” answered Mrs. Barton.
+
+“Then, why didn't you buy some?”
+
+“You ought to know, Joel Barton. You give me the money, and I'll see
+that you have a good breakfast.”
+
+“Where's all the money that man Ford gave you?”
+
+“Where is it? It's eaten up, Mr. Barton, and you did your share. Ef
+you'd had your way, you'd have spent some of the money for drink.”
+
+“Why don't he send you some more, then?”
+
+“Ef you see him anywheres, you'd better ask him. It's your business
+to provide me with money; you can't expect one boy's board to
+support the whole family.”
+
+“It's strange where them boys are gone,” said Joel, desirous of
+changing the subject. “Like as not, they hid under the bed, and
+fooled you.”
+
+“Ef they did, I'll rout 'em out,” said Mrs. Barton, who thought the
+supposition not improbable.
+
+Once more she ascended the stairs and made an irruption into the
+boy's chamber. She lifted the quilt, and peered under the bed. But
+there were no boys there. Looking about the room, however, she
+discovered something else. On the mantelpiece was a scrap of paper,
+which appeared to be so placed as to invite attention.
+
+“What's that?” said Mrs. Barton to herself.
+
+A moment later she was descending the staircase more rapidly than
+she had gone up just before.
+
+“Look at that,” she exclaimed, holding out a scrap of paper to Joel
+Barton.
+
+“I don't see nothin' but a bit of paper,” said her husband.
+
+“Don't be a fool! Read what it is.”
+
+“Read it aloud. I ain't got my specks.”
+
+“The boys have run away. Abner writ it. Listen to this.”
+
+Rudely written on the paper, for Abner was by no means a skillful
+penman, were these words:
+
+“Bub and I have runned away. You needn't worry. I reckon we can get
+along. We're going to make our fortunes. When we're rich, we'll come
+back. ABNER.”
+
+“What do you think of that, Joel Barton?” demanded his wife.
+
+Joel shrugged his shoulders.
+
+“I shan't worry much,” he said. “They'll be back by to-morrer,
+likely.”
+
+“Then you'll have to split some wood to-day, Joel. You can't expect
+a delicate woman like me to do such rough work.”
+
+“You're stronger'n I be, Mrs. B.”
+
+“Perhaps you'll find I am if you don't go to work.”
+
+“I'll do it this afternoon.”
+
+“All right. Then we'll have dinner in the even-in'. No wood, no
+dinner.”
+
+“Seems to me you're rather hard on me, Mrs. B. I don't feel well.”
+
+“Nor you won't till you give up drinkin'.”
+
+Much against his will, Mr. Barton felt compelled by the stress of
+circumstances to do the work expected of him. It made him feel angry
+with Abner, whom he did not miss for any other reason.
+
+“I'll break that boy's neck when he comes back,” he muttered. “It's
+a shame to leave all this work for his poor, old dad.”
+
+To-morrow came, but the boys did not. A week slipped away, and still
+they were missing. Mrs. Barton was not an affectionate mother, but
+it did seem lonesome without Abner. As for Herbert, she did not care
+for his absence. If Willis Ford did not continue to pay his board,
+she felt that she would rather have him away.
+
+On the sixth day after the departure of the boys there came a
+surprise for Mrs. Barton.
+
+As she was at work in the kitchen, she heard a loud knock at the
+door.
+
+“Can it be Abner?” she thought. “He wouldn't knock.”
+
+She went to the door, however, feeling rather curious as to who
+could be her visitor, and on opening it started in surprise to see
+Willis Ford.
+
+“Mr. Ford!” she ejaculated.
+
+“I thought I would make you a call,” answered Ford. “How's the boy
+getting along?”
+
+“If you mean the boy you left here,” she answered, composedly, “he's
+run away, and took my boy with him.”
+
+“Run away!” ejaculated Ford, in dismay.
+
+“Yes; he made tracks about a week ago. He and my Abner have gone off
+to make their fortunes.”
+
+“Why didn't you take better care of him, woman?” exclaimed Ford,
+angrily. “It's your fault, his running away!”
+
+“Look here, Ford,” retorted Mrs. Barton; “don't you sass me, for I
+won't stand it. Ef it hadn't been for you, Abner would be at home
+now.”
+
+“I didn't mean to offend you, my dear Mrs. Barton,” said Ford,
+seeing that he had made a false step. “Tell me all you can, and I'll
+see if I can't get the boys back.”
+
+“Now you're talkin',” said Mrs. Barton, smoothing her ruffled
+plumage. “Come into the house, and I'll tell you all I know.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXV -- HERBERT BREAKS DOWN
+
+
+
+“I don't think I can walk any further, Abner. I feel sick,” faltered
+Herbert.
+
+Abner, who had been walking briskly, turned round to look at his
+young companion. Herbert was looking very pale, and had to drag one
+foot after the other. Day after day he had tried to keep up with
+Abner, but his strength was far inferior to that of the other boy,
+and he had finally broken down.
+
+“You do look sick, bub,” said Abner, struck by Herbert's pallid
+look. “Was I walking too fast for you?”
+
+“I feel very weak,” said Herbert. “Would you mind stopping a little
+while? I should like to lie under a tree and rest.”
+
+“All right, bub. There's a nice tree.” “Don't you feel tired,
+Abner?”
+
+“No; I feel as strong as hearty as a horse.”
+
+“You are bigger than I am. I guess that is the reason.”
+
+Abner was a rough boy, but he showed unusual gentleness and
+consideration for the little boy, whose weakness appealed to his
+better nature. He picked out a nice, shady place for Herbert to
+recline upon, and, taking off his coat, laid it down for a pillow on
+which his young companion might rest his head.
+
+“There, bub; I reckon you'll feel better soon,” he said.
+
+“I hope so, Abner. I wish I was as strong as you are.”
+
+“So do I. I reckon I was born tough. I was brought up different from
+you.”
+
+“I wish I were at home,” sighed Herbert. “Is it a long way from
+here?”
+
+“I reckon it is, but I don't know,” answered Abner, whose
+geographical notions were decidedly hazy.
+
+An hour passed, and still Herbert lay almost motionless, as if rest
+were a luxury, with his eyes fixed thoughtfully upon the clouds that
+could be seen through the branches floating lazily above.
+
+“Don't you feel any better, bub?” asked Abner.
+
+“I feel better while I am lying here, Abner.”
+
+“Don't you feel strong enough to walk a little further?”
+
+“Must I?” asked Herbert, sighing. “It is so nice to lie here.”
+
+“I am afraid we shall never get to New York if we don't keep goin'.”
+
+“I'll try,” said Herbert, and he rose to his feet, but he only
+staggered and became very white.
+
+“I am afraid I need to rest a little more,” he said.
+
+“All right, bub. Take your time.”
+
+More critically Abner surveyed his young companion. He was not used
+to sickness or weakness, but there was something in the little boy's
+face that startled him.
+
+“I don't think you're fit to walk any further today,” he said. “I
+wish we had some good place to stay.”
+
+At this moment a carriage was seen approaching. It was driven by a
+lady of middle age, with a benevolent face. Her attention was drawn
+to the two boys, and especially to Herbert. Her experienced eyes at
+once saw that he was sick.
+
+She halted her horse.
+
+“What is the matter with your brother?” she said to Abner.
+
+“I reckon he's tuckered out,” said Abner, tacitly admitting the
+relationship. “We've been travelin' for several days. He ain't so
+tough as I am.”
+
+“He looks as if he were going to be sick. Have you any friends near
+here?”
+
+“No, ma'am. The nighest is over a hundred miles off.”
+
+The lady reflected a moment. Then she said: “I think you had better
+come to my house. My brother is a doctor. He will look at your
+little brother and see what can be done for him.”
+
+“I should like it very much,” said Abner, “but we haven't got any
+money to pay for doctors and sich.”
+
+“I shan't present any bill, nor will my brother,” said the lady,
+smiling. “Do you think you can help him into the carriage?”
+
+“Oh, yes, ma'am.”
+
+Abner helped Herbert into the carriage, and then, by invitation, got
+in himself.
+
+“May I drive?” he asked, eagerly.
+
+“Yes, if you like.”
+
+The kind lady supported with her arm Herbert's drooping head, and so
+they drove on for a mile, when she indicated that they were to stop
+in front of a large, substantial, square house, built after the New
+England style.
+
+Herbert was taken out, and, after Abner helped him upstairs, into a
+large, square chamber, with four windows.
+
+“What is his name?” asked the lady.
+
+“Herbert.”
+
+“And yours?”
+
+“Abner.”
+
+“He had better lie down on the bed, and, as soon as my brother
+comes, I will send him up.”
+
+Herbert breathed a sigh of satisfaction, as he reclined on the
+comfortable bed, which was more like the one he slept in at home
+than the rude, straw bed which he had used when boarding with Mr.
+and Mrs. Barton.
+
+Half an hour passed, and the doctor came into the room, and felt
+Herbert's pulse.
+
+“The boy is tired out,” he said. “That is all. His strength has been
+exhausted by too severe physical effort.”
+
+“What shall we do to bring him round?” asked his sister.
+
+“Rest and nourishing food are all that is required.”
+
+“Shall we keep him here? Have you any objection?”
+
+“I should object to letting him go in his present condition. He will
+be a care to you, Emily.”
+
+“I shall not mind that. We shall have to keep the other boy, too.”
+
+“Certainly. There's room enough for both.”
+
+When Abner was told that for a week to come they were to stay in Dr.
+Stone's comfortable house, his face indicated his satisfaction.
+
+“Ef you've got any chores to do, ma'am,” he said, “I'll do 'em. I'm
+strong, and not afraid to work.”
+
+“Then I will make you very useful,” said Miss Stone, smiling.
+
+The next day, as she was sitting in Herbert's chamber, she said:
+“Herbert, you don't look at all like your brother.”
+
+“Do you mean Abner, Miss Stone?” Herbert asked.
+
+“Yes; have you any other brother?”
+
+“Abner is not my brother at all.”
+
+“How, then, do you happen to be traveling together?”
+
+“Because we've both run away.”
+
+“I am sorry to hear that. I don't approve of boys running away.
+Where do you live?”
+
+“In New York.”
+
+“In New York!” repeated Miss Stone, much surprised. “Surely, you
+have not walked from there?”
+
+“No, Miss Stone; I was stolen from my home in New York about a month
+ago, and left at Abner's house. It was a poor cabin, and very
+different from anything I was accustomed to. I did not like Mr. and
+Mrs. Barton; but Abner was always kind to me.”
+
+“Is your father living?” asked Miss Stone, who had become
+interested.
+
+“Yes; he is a broker.”
+
+“And no doubt you have a nice home?”
+
+“Yes, very nice. It is a brownstone house uptown. I wonder whether I
+shall ever see it again?”
+
+“Surely you will. I am surprised that you have not written to tell
+your father where you are. He must be feeling very anxious about
+you.”
+
+“I did write, asking him to send me money to come home. Abner was
+going with me. But no answer came to my letter.”
+
+“That is strange. Your father can't have received the letter.”
+
+“So I think, Miss Stone; but I directed it all right.”
+
+“Do you think any one would intercept it?”
+
+“Mrs. Estabrook might,” said Herbert, after a pause for
+consideration.
+
+“Who is she?”
+
+“The housekeeper.”
+
+“What makes you think so? Didn't she like you?”
+
+“No; besides, it was her nephew who carried me off.”
+
+Miss Stone asked further questions, and Herbert told her all the
+particulars with which the reader is already acquainted. When he had
+finished, she said: “My advice is, that you write to your boy
+friend, Grant Thornton, or tell me what to write, and I will write
+to him. His letters will not be likely to be tampered with.”
+
+“I think that will be a good idea,” said Herbert; “Grant will tell
+papa, and then he'll send for me.”
+
+Miss Stone brought her desk to the bedside, and wrote a letter to
+Grant at Herbert's dictation. This letter she sent to the village
+postoffice immediately by Abner.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVI -- GRANT RECEIVES A LETTER
+
+
+
+Mr. Reynolds had spared no expense in his efforts to obtain tidings
+of his lost boy. None of his agents, however, had succeeded in
+gaining the smallest clew to Herbert's whereabouts. Through the
+public press the story had been widely disseminated, and in
+consequence the broker began to receive letters from various points,
+from persons professing to have seen such a boy as the one
+described. One of these letters came from Augusta, Ga., and
+impressed Mr. Reynolds to such an extent that he decided to go there
+in person, and see for himself the boy of whom his correspondent
+wrote.
+
+The day after he started Grant, on approaching the house at the
+close of business, fell in with the postman, just ascending the
+steps.
+
+“Have you got a letter for me?” he asked.
+
+“I have a letter for Grant Thornton,” was the reply.
+
+“That is my name,” said Grant.
+
+He took the letter, supposing it to be from home. He was surprised
+to find that it had a Western postmark. He was more puzzled by the
+feminine handwriting.
+
+“Have you heard anything from the little boy?” asked the postman,
+for Mr. Reynolds' loss was well known.
+
+Grant shook his head.
+
+“Nothing definite,” he said. “Mr. Reynolds has gone to Georgia to
+follow up a clew.”
+
+“Two weeks since,” said the postman, “I left a letter here dated at
+Scipio, Ill. It was in a boy's handwriting. I thought it might be
+from the lost boy.”
+
+“A letter from Scipio, in a boy's handwriting!” repeated Grant,
+surprised. “Mr. Reynolds has shown me all his letters. He has
+received none from there.”
+
+“I can't understand it. I left it here, I am positive of that.”
+
+“At what time in the day?” asked Grant, quickly.
+
+“About eleven o'clock in the forenoon.”
+
+“Can you tell to whom you gave it?”
+
+“To the servant.”
+
+“It is very strange,” said Grant, thoughtfully. “And it was in a
+boy's handwriting?”
+
+“Yes; the address was in a round, schoolboy hand. The servant
+couldn't have lost it, could she?”
+
+“No; Sarah is very careful.”
+
+“Well, I must be going.”
+
+By this time Grant had opened the letter. He had glanced rapidly at
+the signature, and his face betrayed excitement.
+
+“This is from Herbert,” he said. “You may listen, if you like.”
+
+He rapidly read the letter, which in part was as follows:
+
+“DEAR GRANT: I write to you, or rather I have asked Miss Stone, who
+is taking care of me, to do so, because I wrote to papa two weeks
+since, and I am afraid he did not get the letter, for I have had no
+answer. I wrote from the town of Scipio, in Illinois--
+
+“Just what I said,” interrupted the postman.
+
+“I wrote that Mr. Ford had carried me away and brought me out West,
+where he put me to board in a poor family, where I had scarcely
+enough to eat. Mr. Barton had one son, Abner, who treated me well,
+and agreed to run away with me to New York, if we could get money
+from papa. But we waited and waited, and no letter came. So at last
+we decided to run away at any rate, for I was afraid Mr. Ford would
+come back and take me somewhere else. I can't tell you much about
+the journey, except that we walked most of the way, and we got very
+tired--or, at least, I did, for I am not so strong as Abner--till I
+broke down. I am stopping now at the house of Dr. Stone, who is very
+kind, and so is his sister, who is writing this letter for me. Will
+you show papa this letter, and ask him to send for me, if he cannot
+come himself? I do so long to be at home once more. I hope he will
+come before Willis Ford finds me out. I think he has a spite against
+papa, and that is why he stole me away. Your affectionate friend,
+
+“HERBERT REYNOLDS.”
+
+“Please say nothing about this,” said Grant to the postman. “I don't
+want it known that this letter has come.”
+
+“What will you do?”
+
+“I shall start for the West myself to-night.”
+
+“Mrs. Estabrook intercepted that letter,” said Grant to himself. “I
+am sure of it.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVII -- WILLIS FORD FINDS THE RUNAWAYS
+
+
+
+“I shall be absent for a few days, Mrs. Estabrook,” said Grant to
+the housekeeper, as he entered the house.
+
+“Where are you going?” she inquired.
+
+“I can't tell you definitely.”
+
+“Hadn't you better wait till Mr. Reynolds gets back?”
+
+“No; business is not very pressing in the office, and I can be
+spared.”
+
+The housekeeper concluded that Grant was going to Colebrook, and did
+not connect his journey with the lost boy.
+
+“Oh, well, I suppose you understand your own business best. Herbert
+will miss you if he finds you away when his father brings him back.”
+
+“Do you think he will?” asked Grant, eyeing the housekeeper sharply.
+
+“I'm sure I don't know. I suppose he expects to, or he would not
+have traveled so far in search of him.”
+
+“Shall you be glad to see him back, Mrs. Estabrook?”
+
+“Of course! What makes you doubt it?” demanded the housekeeper,
+sharply.
+
+“I thought you didn't like Herbert.”
+
+“I wasn't always petting him. It isn't in my way to pet boys.”
+
+“Do you often hear from Willis Ford?”
+
+“That is my business,” answered Mrs. Estabrook, sharply. “Why do you
+ask?”
+
+“I was wondering whether he knew that Herbert had been abducted.”
+
+“That is more than we know. Very likely the boy ran away.”
+
+Grant called on the cashier at his private residence, confided to
+him his plan, and obtained a sum of money for traveling expenses. He
+left the Grand Central Depot by the evening train, and by morning
+was well on his way to Chicago.
+
+Meanwhile, Willis Ford had left no stone unturned to obtain news of
+the runaways. This he did not find difficult, though attended with
+delay. He struck the right trail, and then had only to inquire, as
+he went along, whether two boys had been seen, one small and
+delicate, the other large and well-grown, wandering through the
+country. Plenty had seen the two boys, and told him so.
+
+“Are they your sons, mister?” asked a laborer of whom he inquired.
+
+“Not both of them--only the smaller,” answered Ford, with unblushing
+falsehood.
+
+“And what made them run away now?”
+
+“My son probably did not like the boarding place I selected for
+him.”
+
+“Why didn't he write to you?”
+
+“He didn't know where to direct.”
+
+“Who is the other lad?”
+
+“The son of the man I placed him with. I think he may have induced
+Sam to run away.”
+
+Finally Ford reached Claremont, the town where the boys had actually
+found refuge. Here he learned that two boys had been taken in by Dr.
+Stone, answering to the description he gave. One, the younger one,
+had been sick, but now was better. This information he obtained at
+the hotel.
+
+Ford's eyes sparkled with exultation. He had succeeded in his quest,
+and once more Herbert was in his hands, or would be very soon.
+
+He inquired the way to Dr. Stone's. Everybody knew where the doctor
+lived, and he had no trouble in securing the information he sought.
+Indeed, before he reached the house, he caught sight of Abner,
+walking in the same direction with himself, but a few rods ahead.
+
+He quickened his pace, and laid his hand on the boy's shoulder.
+
+Abner turned, and an expression of dismay overspread his face.
+
+“Ha, my young friend! I see that you remember me,” said Ford,
+ironically.
+
+“Well, what do you want?” asked Abner, sullenly.
+
+“You know well enough. I want the boy you have persuaded to run away
+with you.”
+
+“I didn't persuade him.”
+
+“Never mind about quibbling. I know where the boy is, and I mean to
+have him.”
+
+“Do you want me, too?”
+
+“No; I don't care where you go.”
+
+“I reckon Herbert won't go with you.”
+
+“And I reckon he will. That is Dr. Stone's, isn't it? Never mind
+answering. I know well enough it is.”
+
+“He'll have bub sure,” said Abner, disconsolately. “But I'll follow
+'em, and I'll get him away, as sure as my name's Abner Barton.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVIII -- FORD TAKES A BOLD STEP, BUT FAILS
+
+
+
+“I wish to see Miss Stone,” said Willis Ford, to the servant.
+
+“I'll tell her. What name shall I say?”
+
+“Never mind about the name. I wish to see her on business of
+importance.”
+
+“I don't like his looks,” thought the maid. “Shure he talks as if he
+was the boss.”
+
+She told Miss Stone, however, that a gentleman wished to see her,
+who would not tell his name.
+
+Miss Stone was in Herbert's chamber, and the boy--now nearly well,
+quite well, in fact, but for a feeling of languor and weakness--heard
+the message.
+
+“What is he like?” he asked, anxiously.
+
+“He's slender like, with black hair and a black mustache, and he
+talks like he was the master of the house.”
+
+“I think it is Willis Ford,” said Herbert, turning pale.
+
+“The man who abducted you?” ejaculated Miss Stone.
+
+“Yes, the same man. Don't let him take me away,” implored Herbert.
+
+“I wish my brother were here,” said Miss Stone, anxiously.
+
+“Won't he be here soon?”
+
+“I am afraid not. He has gone on a round of calls. Bridget, tell the
+young man I will be down directly.”
+
+Five minutes later Miss Stone descended, and found Willis Ford
+fuming with impatience.
+
+“I am here, sir,” she said, coldly. “I understand you wish to see
+me.”
+
+“Yes, madam; will you answer me a few questions?”
+
+“Possibly. Let me hear what they are.”
+
+“You have a boy in this house, named Herbert Reynolds?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“A boy who ran away from Mr. Joel Barton, with whom I placed him?”
+
+“What right had you to place him anywhere, Mr. Ford?” demanded the
+lady.
+
+“That's my business. Permit me to say that it is no affair of
+yours.”
+
+“I judge differently. The boy is sick and under my charge.”
+
+“I am his natural guardian, madam.”
+
+“Who made you so, Mr. Ford?”
+
+“I shall not argue that question. It is enough that I claim him as
+my cousin and ward.”
+
+“Your cousin?”
+
+“Certainly. That doubtless conflicts with what he has told you. He
+was always a liar.”
+
+“His story is, that you beguiled him from his home in New York, and
+brought him against his will to this part of the country.”
+
+“And you believe him?” sneered Ford.
+
+“I do.”
+
+“It matters little whether you do or not. He is my sister's child,
+and is under my charge. I thought fit to place him with Mr. Joel
+Barton, of Scipio, but the boy, who is flighty, was induced to run
+away with Barton's son, a lazy, shiftless fellow.”
+
+“Supposing this to be so, Mr. Ford, what is your object in calling?”
+
+“To reclaim him. It does not suit me to leave him here.”
+
+Ford's manner was so imperative that Miss Stone became alarmed.
+
+“The boy is not fit to travel,” she said. “Wait till my brother
+comes, and he will decide, being a physician, whether it is safe to
+have him go.”
+
+“Madam, this subterfuge will not avail,” said Ford, rudely. “I will
+not wait till your brother comes. I prefer to take the matter into
+my own hands.”
+
+He pressed forward to the door of the room, and before Miss Stone
+could prevent it, was on his way upstairs. She followed as rapidly
+as she could, but before she could reach him, Ford had dashed into
+the room where Herbert lay on the bed.
+
+Herbert was stricken with terror when he saw the face of his enemy.
+
+“I see you know me,” said Ford, with an evil smile. “Get up at once,
+and prepare to go with me.”
+
+“Leave me here, Mr. Ford. I can't go with you; Indeed, I can't,”
+ said Herbert.
+
+“We'll see about that,” said Ford. “I give you five minutes to rise
+and put on your clothes. If you don't obey me, I will flog you.”
+
+Looking into his cruel face, Herbert felt that he had no other
+resource. Trembling, he slipped out of bed, and began to draw on his
+clothes. He felt helpless, but help was nearer than he dreamed.
+
+“Mr. Ford, I protest against this high-handed proceeding,” exclaimed
+Miss Stone, indignantly, as she appeared at the door of the chamber.
+“What right have you to go over my house without permission?”
+
+“If it comes to that,” sneered Ford, “what right have you to keep my
+ward from me?”
+
+“I am not his ward,” said Herbert, quickly.
+
+“The boy is a liar,” exclaimed Ford, harshly.
+
+“Get back into the bed, Herbert,” said Miss Stone. “This man shall
+not take you away.”
+
+“Perhaps you will tell me how you are going to help it,” retorted
+Ford, with an evil smile.
+
+“If my brother were here---”
+
+“But your brother is not here, and if he were, I would not allow him
+to interfere between me and my cousin. Herbert, unless you continue
+dressing, I shall handle you roughly.”
+
+But sounds were heard upon the stairs, and Ford, as well as Miss
+Stone, turned their eyes to the door.
+
+The first to enter was Abner.
+
+“Oh, it's you, is it?” said Ford, contemptuously.
+
+He had thought it might be Dr. Stone, whom he was less inclined to
+face than he professed.
+
+“Yes, it is. What are you doing here?”
+
+“It is none of your business, you cub. He's got to come with me.”
+
+“Maybe you want me, too?”
+
+“I wouldn't take you as a gift.”
+
+“Ho, ho,” laughed Abner, “I reckon you'd find me a tough customer.
+You won't take bub, either.”
+
+“Who is to prevent me?”
+
+“I will!” said a new voice, and Grant Thornton, who had fallen in
+with Abner outside, walked quietly into the room.
+
+Willis Ford started back in dismay. Grant was the last person he
+expected to meet here. He had no idea that any one of the boy's home
+friends had tracked him this far. He felt that he was defeated, but
+he hated to acknowledge it.
+
+“How are you going to prevent me, you young whippersnapper?” he
+said, glaring menacingly at Grant.
+
+“Mr. Willis Ford, unless you leave this room and this town at once,”
+ said Grant, firmly, “I will have you arrested. There is a local
+officer below whom I brought with me, suspecting your object in
+coming here.”
+
+“Oh, Grant, how glad I am to see you! Is papa with you?” exclaimed
+Herbert, overjoyed.
+
+“I will tell you about it soon, Herbert.”
+
+“You won't let him take me away?”
+
+“There is no danger of that,” said Grant, reassuringly. “I shall
+take you home to New York as soon as this good lady says you are
+well enough to go.”
+
+Ford stood gnawing his nether lip. If it had been Mr. Reynolds, he
+would not have minded so much; but for a mere boy, like Grant
+Thornton, to talk with such a calm air of superiority angered him.
+
+“Boy,” he said, “it sounds well for you to talk of arrest--you who
+stole my aunt's bonds, and are indebted to her forbearance for not
+being at this moment in State's prison.”
+
+“Your malicious charge does not affect me, Mr. Ford,” returned
+Grant. “It was proved before you left New York that you were the
+thief, and even your stepmother must have admitted it. Mr. Reynolds
+discharged you from his employment, and this is the mean revenge you
+have taken--the abduction of his only son.”
+
+“I will do you an injury yet, you impudent boy,” said Ford,
+furiously.
+
+“I shall be on my guard, Mr. Ford,” answered Grant. “I believe you
+capable of it.”
+
+“Don't you think you had better leave us, sir?” said Miss Stone.
+
+“I shall take my own time about going,” he answered, impudently.
+
+But his words were heard by Dr. Stone, who had returned sooner than
+he anticipated, and was already at the door of the room. He was a
+powerful man, and of quick temper. His answer was to seize Ford by
+the collar and fling him downstairs.
+
+“This will teach you to be more polite to a lady,” he said. “Now,
+what does all this mean, and who is this man?”
+
+The explanation was given.
+
+“I wish I had been here before,” said the doctor.
+
+“You were in good time,” said Grant, smiling. “I see that Herbert
+has found powerful friends.”
+
+Willis Ford, angry and humiliated, picked himself up, but did not
+venture to return to the room he had left so ignominiously. Like
+most bullies, he was a coward, and he did not care to encounter the
+doctor again.
+
+Within an hour, Grant telegraphed to the broker at his office: “I
+have found Herbert, and will start for New York with him to-morrow.”
+ Mr. Reynolds had only just returned from his fruitless Southern
+expedition, weary and dispirited. But he forgot all his fatigue when
+he read this message. “God bless Grant Thornton!” he ejaculated.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIX -- THE HOUSEKEEPER'S RETRIBUTION
+
+
+
+The train from Chicago had just reached the Grand Central Depot.
+From the parlor car descended two boys who are well known to us,
+Grant Thornton and Herbert Reynolds.
+
+Herbert breathed a sigh of satisfaction.
+
+“Oh, Grant,” he said, “how glad I am to see New York once more! I
+wonder if papa knows we are to come by this train?”
+
+The answer came speedily.
+
+The broker, who had just espied them, hurried forward, and his lost
+boy was lifted to his embrace.
+
+“Thank God, I have recovered you, my dear son,” he exclaimed,
+fervently.
+
+“You must thank Grant, too, papa,” said the little boy. “It was he
+who found me and prevented Mr. Ford stealing me again.”
+
+Mr. Reynolds grasped Grant's hand and pressed it warmly.
+
+“I shall know how to express my gratitude to Grant in due time,” he
+said.
+
+On their way home Grant revealed to Mr. Reynolds for the first time
+the treachery of the housekeeper, who had suppressed Herbert's
+letter to his father, and left the latter to mourn for his son when
+she might have relieved him of the burden of sorrow.
+
+As Mr. Reynolds listened, his face became stern.
+
+“That woman is a viper!” he said. “In my house she has enjoyed every
+comfort and every consideration, and in return she has dealt me this
+foul blow. She will have cause to regret it.”
+
+When they entered the house Mrs. Estabrook received them with false
+smiles.
+
+“So you are back again, Master Herbert,” she said. “A fine fright
+you gave us!”
+
+“You speak as if Herbert went away of his own accord,” said the
+broker sternly. “You probably know better.”
+
+“I know nothing, sir, about it.”
+
+“Then I may inform you that it was your stepson, Willis Ford, who
+stole my boy--a noble revenge, truly, upon me for discharging him.”
+
+“I don't believe it,” said the housekeeper. “I presume it is your
+office boy who makes this charge?” she added, pressing her thin lips
+together.
+
+“There are others who are cognizant of it, Mrs. Estabrook. Grant
+succeeded in foiling Mr. Ford in his attempt to recover Herbert, who
+had run away from his place of confinement.”
+
+“You are prejudiced against my son, Mr. Reynolds,” said Mrs.
+Estabrook, her voice trembling with anger.
+
+“Not more than against you, Mrs. Estabrook. I have a serious charge
+to bring against you.”
+
+“What do you mean, sir?” asked the housekeeper, nervously.
+
+“Why did you suppress the letter which my boy wrote to me revealing
+his place of imprisonment?”
+
+“I don't know what you mean, sir,” she answered, half defiantly.
+
+“I think you do.”
+
+“Did Master Herbert write such a letter?” “Yes.”
+
+“Then it must have miscarried.”
+
+“On the contrary, the postman expressly declares that he delivered
+it at this house. I charge you with concealing or suppressing it.”
+
+“The charge is false. You can't prove it, sir.”
+
+“I shall not attempt to do so; but I am thoroughly convinced of it.
+After this act of treachery, I cannot permit you to spend another
+night in my house. You will please pack at once, and arrange for a
+removal.”
+
+“I am entitled to a month's notice, Mr. Reynolds.”
+
+“You shall have a month's wages in lieu of it. I would as soon have
+a serpent in my house.”
+
+Mrs. Estabrook turned pale. She had never expected it would come
+to this. She thought no one would ever be able to trace the
+suppressed letter to her. She was not likely again to obtain so
+comfortable and desirable a position. Instead of attributing her ill
+fortune to her own malice and evil doing, she chose to attribute it
+to Grant.
+
+“I am to thank you for this, Grant Thornton,” she said, in sudden
+passion. “I was right in hating you as soon as I first saw you. If
+ever I am able I will pay you up for this.”
+
+“I don't doubt it, Mrs. Estabrook,” said Grant, quietly, “but I
+don't think you will have it in your power.”
+
+She did not deign to answer, but hurried out of the room. In half an
+hour she had left the house.
+
+“Now I can breathe freely,” said the broker. “That woman was so full
+of malice and spite that it made me uncomfortable to feel that she
+was in the house.”
+
+“I am so glad that she has gone, papa,” said Herbert.
+
+That evening, after Herbert had gone to bed, Mr. Reynolds invited
+Grant into his library.
+
+“My boy,” he said, “I have settled accounts with Mrs. Estabrook; now
+I want to settle with you.”
+
+“Not in the same way, I hope, sir,” said Grant.
+
+“Yes, in the same way, according to your deserts. You have done me a
+service, that which none can be greater. You have been instrumental
+in restoring to me my only son.”
+
+“I don't want any reward for that, sir.”
+
+“Perhaps not; but I owe it to myself to see that this service is
+acknowledged. I shall raise your salary to fifteen dollars a week.”
+
+“Thank you, sir,” said Grant, joyfully. “How glad my mother will
+be.”
+
+“When you tell her this, you may also tell her that I have deposited
+on your account in the Bowery Savings Bank the sum of five thousand
+dollars.”
+
+“This is too much, Mr. Reynolds,” said Grant, quite overwhelmed.
+“Why, I shall feel like a man of fortune.”
+
+“So you will be in time, if you continue as faithful to business as
+in the past.”
+
+“It seems to me like a dream,” said Grant.
+
+“I will give you a week's leave of absence to visit your parents,
+and tell them of your good fortune.”
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XL -- CONCLUSION
+
+
+
+There were anxious hearts in the parsonage at Colebrook. For some
+weeks the minister had shown signs of overwork. His appetite had
+failed, and he seemed weary and worn.
+
+“He needs change,” said the doctor. “A run over to Europe would do
+him good. He has no disease; he only wants change.”
+
+“A trip to Europe,” said Mr. Thornton, shaking his head. “It is
+impossible. It has been the dream of my life, but a country minister
+could not, in half a dozen years, save money enough for that.”
+
+“If your brother Godfrey would lend you the money, Grant might, in
+time, help you to pay it.”
+
+Godfrey never had forgiven Grant for running counter to his plans.
+
+“I wish I could spare the money myself, Mr. Thornton,” said the
+doctor. “Five hundred dollars would be sufficient, and it would make
+a new man of you.”
+
+“It might as well be five thousand,” said the minister, shaking
+his head. “No, my good friend, I must toil on as well as I can, and
+leave European trips to more favored men.”
+
+It was noised about through the parish that the minister was sick,
+and the doctor recommended a European trip.
+
+“It's ridikilus,” was Deacon Gridley's comment. “I work harder than
+the minister, and I never had to go to Europe. It's just because
+it's fashionable.”
+
+“Mr. Thornton is looking pale and haggard,” said Mrs. Gridley.
+
+“What if he is? He ought to work outdoors like me. Then he'd know
+what work was. Ac-cordin' to my notion, ministers have a pooty easy
+time.”
+
+Mr. Tudor was of the same opinion.
+
+“It's all nonsense, deacon,” he said. “Father wanted me to be a
+minister, and I'd have had a good deal easier time if I had followed
+his advice.”
+
+“You wouldn't have had so much money, Mr. Tudor,” said Miss Lucretia
+Spring, who heard this remark.
+
+“Mebbe not; but what I've got I've worked for.”
+
+“For my part, although I am not near as rich as you are, I'd give
+twenty dollars toward sending the minister abroad,” said kindly Miss
+Spring.
+
+“I wouldn't give a cent,” said Mr. Tudor, with emphasis.
+
+“Nor I,” said Deacon Gridley. “I don't believe in humorin' the
+clergy.”
+
+Saturday came, and the minister was worse. It seemed doubtful if he
+would be able to officiate the next day. No wonder he became
+dispirited.
+
+Just before supper the stage drove up to the door, and Grant jumped
+out.
+
+“I am afraid he has been discharged,” said Mr. Thornton, nervously.
+
+“He does not look like it,” said Mrs. Thornton, noticing Grant's
+beaming countenance.
+
+“What is the matter with father?” asked Grant, stopping short as he
+entered.
+
+“He is not feeling very well, Grant. He has got run down.”
+
+“What does the doctor say?”
+
+“He says your father ought to take a three-months trip to Europe.”
+
+“Which, of course, is impossible,” said Mr. Thornton, smiling
+faintly.
+
+“Not if your brother would open his heart, and lend you the money.”
+
+“He would not do it.”
+
+“And we won't ask him,” said Grant, quickly, “but you shall go, all
+the same, father.”
+
+“My son, it would cost five hundred dollars.”
+
+“And for twice as much, mother, could go with you; you would need
+her to take care of you. Besides she needs a change, too.”
+
+“It is a pleasant plan, Grant; but we must not think of it.”
+
+“That's where I don't agree with you. You and mother shall go as
+soon as you like, and I will pay the expenses.”
+
+“Is the boy crazy?” said the minister.
+
+“I'll answer that for myself, father. I have five thousand dollars
+in the Bowery Savings Bank, in New York, and I don't think I can
+spend a part of it better than in giving you and mother a European
+trip.”
+
+Then the explanation came, and with some difficulty the minister was
+made to understand that the dream of his life was to be realized,
+and that he and his wife were really going to Europe.
+
+“Well, well! who'd have thought it?” ejaculated Deacon Gridley.
+“That boy of the minister's must be plaguey smart. I never thought
+he'd be so successful. All the same, it seems to me a mighty poor
+investment to spend a thousand dollars on racin' to Europe. That
+money would buy quite a sizable farm.”
+
+Others, however, less narrow in their notions, heartily approved of
+the European trip. When three months later the minister came home,
+he looked like a new man. His eye was bright, his face bronzed and
+healthy, his step elastic, and he looked half a dozen years younger.
+
+“This all comes of having a good son,” he said, smiling, in reply to
+congratulations, “a son who, in helping himself, has been alive to
+help others.”
+
+Half a dozen years have passed. Grant Thornton is now a young man,
+and junior partner of Mr. Reynolds. He has turned his money to good
+account, and is counted rich for one of his age. He has renewed his
+acquaintance with Miss Carrie Clifton, whom he met for the first
+time as a summer boarder in Colebrook, and from their intimacy it
+wouldn't be surprising if Grant should some day become the wealthy
+jeweler's son-in-law.
+
+Uncle Godfrey has become reconciled to Grant's following his own
+course. It is easy to become reconciled to success.
+
+Willis Ford is confined in a penitentiary in a Western State, having
+been convicted of forgery, and there is small chance of his
+amendment. He has stripped his stepmother of her last penny, and she
+is compelled to live on the charity of a relative, who accords her a
+grudging welcome, and treats her with scant consideration. The
+bitterest drop in her cup of humiliation is the prosperity of Grant
+Thornton, toward whom she feels a fierce and vindictive hatred. As
+she has sown, so she reaps. Malice and uncharitableness seldom bring
+forth welcome fruit.
+
+THE END
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Helping Himself, by Horatio Alger
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