Kitabı oku: «The Store Boy», sayfa 11
CHAPTER XXXIII GOOD NEWS
The tramp, as we may call him for want of a different name, certainly showed signs of improvement in his personal appearance. He looked quite respectable, in fact, in a business suit of gray mixed cloth, and would have passed muster in any assemblage.
"I think I have met you before," answered Ben, with a smile.
"Perhaps it would have been more of a compliment not to have recognized me. I flatter myself that I have changed."
"So you have, and for the better."
"Thank you. I believe we rode together when we last met."
"Yes," said Ben.
"And you were not sorry to part copy with me—is it not so?"
"I won't contradict you."
"Yet I am inclined to be your friend."
"I am glad of it," said Ben politely, though, truth to tell, he did not anticipate any particular benefit to accrue from the acquaintance of the speaker.
"I see you don't attach much importance to my offer of friendship.
Yet I can do you an important service."
Mr. Taylor, who had been occupying a seat with Ben, here arose.
"You have something to say to my young friend," he said. "Take my seat."
"Don't let me deprive you of it," said the other with a politeness Ben had not deemed him capable of.
"By no means. I am going into the smoking car to smoke a cigar. Ben, I will be back soon."
"I didn't expect to meet you so far from Pentonville," said Ben's new companion, unable to suppress his curiosity.
"I don't live in Pentonville now."
"Where then?"
"In the city of New York."
"Are you employed there?"
"Yes; but I am just returning from a trip to Western Pennsylvania."
"Did you go on business?"
"Yes."
"Well, you are getting on, for a country boy. What do you hear from home?"
"My mother is well, but I fancy that is not what you mean."
"Yes, I am interested about your mother. Has she yet paid off that mortgage on her cottage?"
"How did you know there was a mortgage," asked Ben, in surprise.
"I know more than you suppose. What are the chances that she will be able to pay?"
"They are very small," answered Ben, gravely, "but the money is not yet due."
"When will it be due?"
"In about six weeks."
"Squire Davenport will foreclose—I know him well enough for that."
"So I suppose," said Ben, soberly.
"Is there no friend who will oblige you with the money?"
"I don't know of anyone I should feel at liberty to call on."
It came into his mind that Mrs. Hamilton was abundantly able to help them, but she did not know his mother, and it would savor of presumption for him to ask so great a favor. True, he had effected a most profitable sale for her, but that was only in the line of his faithful duty, and gave him no claim upon his employer.
"I thought, perhaps, the gentlemen you were traveling with—the one who has gone info the smoking-car—might—"
"He is only a business acquaintance; I have known him less than a week."
"To be sure, that alters matters. He is not your employer, then?"
"No."
"Then I believe I shall have to help you myself."
Ben stared at his companion in amazement. What! this man who had robbed him of a dollar only four weeks before, to offer assistance in so important a matter!
"I suppose you are joking," said he, after a pause.
"Joking! Far from it. I mean just what I say. If Squire Davenport undertakes to deprive your mother of her home, I will interfere, and, you will see, with effect."
"Would you mind explaining to me how you would help us?" asked Ben.
"Yes, in confidence, it being understood that I follow my own course in the matter."
"That is fair enough."
"Suppose I tell you, then, that Squire Davenport—I believe that is the title he goes by in your village—owes your mother more than the amount of the mortgage."
"Is this true?" said Ben, much surprised.
"It is quite true."
"But how can it be?"
"Your father, at his death, held a note of Davenport's for a thousand dollars—money which he had placed in his hands—a note bearing six per cent. interest."
Ben was more and more surprised; at first he was elated, then depressed.
"It will do me no good," he said, "nothing was found at father's death, and the note is no doubt destroyed."
"So Squire Davenport thinks," said his companion quietly.
"But isn't it true?"
"No; that note not only is in existence, but I knew where to lay my hands on it."
"Then it will more than offset the mortgage?" said Ben joyfully.
"I should say. No interest has been paid on the note for more than five years. The amount due must be quite double the amount of the mortgage."
"How can I thank you for this information?" said Ben. "We shall not be forced to give up our little cottage, after all. But how could Squire Davenport so wickedly try to cheat us of our little property?"
"My dear boy," said the tramp, shrugging his shoulders, "your question savors of verdancy. Learn that there is no meanness too great to be inspired by the love of money."
"But Squire Davenport was already rich."
"And for that reason he desired to become richer."
"When shall we go to see the squire and tell him about the note?"
"I prefer that you should wait till the day the mortgage comes due.
When is that?"
"On the twentieth of December."
"Then on the nineteenth of December we will both go to Pentonville and wait till the squire shows his hand."
"You seem to be—excuse me—in better circumstances than when we last met."
"I am. An old uncle of mine died last month, and considerately left me ten thousand dollars. Perhaps if he had known more about my way of life he would have found another heir. It has led me to turn over a new leaf, and henceforth I am respectable, as befits a man of property. I even keep a card case."
He drew out a card case and handed a card to Ben. It bore the name of Harvey Dinsmore.
"Mr. Dinsmore," said our young hero, I rejoice at your good fortune."
"Thank you. Shall we be friends?"
"With pleasure."
"Then I have more good news for you. Your father owned twenty-five shares in a Western railway. These shares are selling at par, and a year's dividends are due."
"Why, we shall be rich," said Ben, fairly dazzled by this second stroke of good fortune.
"I hope so; though this is only a beginning."
"How can we prove that the railway shares belong to us?"
"Leave that to me. On the nineteenth of December you will meet me in Pentonville. Till then we probably shall not meet."
At this moment Mr. Taylor made his appearance, returning from the smoking-car, and Harvey Dinsmore left them.
"Well, Ben, has your friend entertained you?" asked Taylor.
"He has told me some very good news."
"I am glad to hear it."
In due time they reached New York, and Ben started uptown to call upon Mrs. Hamilton.
CHAPTER XXXIV CONRAD GOES INTO WALL STREET
When Conrad succeeded Ben as Mrs. Hamilton's private secretary, he was elated by what he considered his promotion. His first disappointment came when he learned that his salary was to be but five dollars a week. He did not dare to remonstrate with his employer, but he expressed himself freely to his mother.
"Cousin Hamilton might afford to pay me more than five dollars a week," he said bitterly.
"It is small," said his mother cautiously, "but we must look to the future."
"If you mean till Cousin Hamilton dies, it may be twenty or thirty years. Why, she looks healthier than you, mother, and will probably live longer."
Mrs. Hill looked grave. She did not fancy this speech.
"I don't think we shall have to wait so long," she said. "When you are twenty-one Cousin Hamilton will probably do something for you."
"That's almost five years," grumbled Conrad.
"At any rate we have got Ben Barclay out of the house, that's one comfort."
"Yes, I am glad of that; but I'd rather be in my old place than this, if I am to get only five dollars a week."
"Young people are so impatient," sighed Mrs. Hill. "You don't seem to consider that it isn't alone taking Ben's place, but you have got rid of a dangerous rival for the inheritance."
"That's true," said Conrad, "and I hated Ben. I'd rather any other boy would cut me out than he."
"Do you know what has become of him?"
"No; I expect that he has gone back to the country—unless he's blacking boots or selling papers downtown somewhere. By Jove, I'd like to come across him with a blacking-brush. He used to put on such airs. I would like to have heard Cousin Hamilton give him the grand bounce."
Nothing could be more untrue than that Ben putting on airs, but Conrad saw him through the eyes of prejudice, and persuaded himself that such was the fact. In reality Ben was exceedingly modest and unassuming, and it was this among other things that pleased Mrs. Hamilton.
Conrad continued to find his salary insufficient. He was still more dissatisfied after an interview with one of his school companions, a boy employed in a Wall Street broker's office.
He was just returning from an errand on which Mrs. Hamilton had sent him, when he overtook Fred Lathrop on his way uptown.
The attention of Conrad was drawn to a heavy gold ring with a handsome stone on Fred's finger.
"Where did you get that ring?" asked Conrad, who had himself a fancy for rings.
"Bought it in Maiden Lane. How do you like it?"
"It is splendid. Do you mind telling me how much you paid?"
"I paid forty-five dollars. It's worth more."
"Forty-five dollars!" ejaculated Conrad. "Why, you must be a millionaire. Where did you get so much money?"
"I didn't find it in the street," answered Fred jocularly.
"Can't you tell a feller? You didn't save it out of your wages, did you?"
"My wages? I should say not. Why, I only get six dollars a week, and have to pay car fare and lunches out of that."
"Then it isn't equal to my five dollars, for that is all clear. But, all the same, I can't save anything."
"Nor I."
"Then how can you afford to buy forty-five dollar rings?"
"I don't mind telling you," said Fred. "I made the money by speculating."
"Speculating!" repeated Conrad, still in the dark.
"Yes. I'll tell you all about it."
"Do! there's a good fellow."
"You see, I bought fifty Erie shares on a margin."
"How's that?"
"Why I got a broker to buy me fifty shares on a margin of one per cent. He did it to oblige me. I hadn't any money to put up, but I had done him one or two favors, and he did it out of good nature. As the stock was on the rise, he didn't run much of a risk. Well, I bought at 44 and sold at 45 1-4. So I made fifty dollars over and above the commission. I tell you I felt good when the broker paid me over five ten-dollar bills."
"I should think you would."
"I was afraid I'd spend the money foolishly, so I went right off and bought this ring. I can sell it for what I gave any time."
Conrad's cupidity was greatly excited by this remarkable luck of Fred's.
"That seems an easy way of making money," he said. "Do you think I could try it?"
"Anybody can do it if he's got the money to plank down for a margin."
"I don't think I quite understand."
"Then I'll tell you. You buy fifty shares of stock, costing, say, fifty dollars a share."
"That would be twenty-five hundred dollars."
"Yes, if you bought it right out. But you don't. You give the broker whatever per cent. he requires, say a dollar a share—most of them don't do it so cheap—and he buys the stock on your account. If it goes up one or two points, say to fifty-one or fifty-two, he sells out, and the profit goes to you, deducting twenty-five cents a share which he charges for buying and selling. Besides that, he pays you back your margin."
"That's splendid. But doesn't it ever go down?"
"I should say so. If it goes down a dollar a share, then, of course, you lose fifty dollars."
Conrad looked serious. This was not quite so satisfactory.
"It is rather risky, then," he said.
"Of course, there's some risk; but you know the old proverb, 'Nothing venture, nothing have.' You must choose the right stock—one that is going up."
"I don't know anything about stock," said Conrad.
"I do," said Fred. "If I had money I know what I'd buy."
"What?" asked Conrad eagerly.
"Pacific Mail."
"Do you think that's going up?"
"I feel sure of it. I overheard my boss and another broker talking about it yesterday, and they both predicted a bull movement in it."
"Does that mean it's going up?"
"To be sure."
"I should like to buy some."
"Have you got money to plank down as a margin?"
Conrad had in his pocketbook fifty dollars which he had collected for Mrs. Hamilton, being a month's rent on a small store on Third Avenue. It flashed upon him that with this money he could make fifty dollars for himself, and be able to pay back the original sum to Mrs. Hamilton as soon as the operation was concluded.
"Could you manage it for me, Fred?" he asked.
"Yes, I wouldn't mind."
"Then I'll give you fifty dollars, and you do the best you can for me.
If I succeed I'll make you a present."
"All right. I hope you'll win, I am sure [illegible]"
Not giving himself time to think of the serious breach of trust he was committing, Conrad took the money from his pocket and transferred it to his companion.
"It won't take long, will it?" he asked anxiously.
"Very likely the stock will be bought and sold to-morrow."
"That will be splendid. You'll let me know right off?"
"Yes; I'll attend to that."
Conrad went home and reported to Mrs. Hamilton that the tenant had not paid, but would do so on Saturday.
Mrs. Hamilton was a little surprised, for the Third Avenue tenant had never before put her off. Something in Conrad's manner excited her suspicion, and she resolved the next day to call herself on Mr. Clark, the tenant. He would be likely to speak of the postponement, and give reasons for it.
CHAPTER XXXV TURNING THE TABLES
"Now Conrad," said Mrs. Hamilton, "will you tell me by what authority you send away my visitors?"
"I didn't suppose you would want to see Ben," stammered Conrad.
"Why not?"
"After what he has done?"
"What has he done?"
"He stole your opera glass and pawned it."
"You are mistaken. It was stolen by a different person."
Conrad started uneasily, and his mother, who was not in the secret, looked surprised.
"I know who took the opera glass," continued Mrs. Hamilton.
"Who was it?" asked the housekeeper.
"Your son, I regret to say."
"This is a slander!" exclaimed Mrs. Hill angrily. "Cousin Hamilton, that boy has deceived you."
"My information did not come from Ben, if that is what you mean."
"My son would be incapable of stealing," continued Mrs. Hill.
"I should be glad to think so. It can easily be settled. Let Conrad go with me tomorrow to the pawnbroker from whom I recovered the glass, and see if he recognizes him."
"He would be sure to say it was me," stammered Conrad.
"At any rate he told me it was not Ben, who made no opposition to accompanying me."
"I see there is a plot against my poor boy," said Mrs. Hill bitterly.
"On the contrary, I shall be glad to believe him innocent. But there is another matter that requires investigation. Conrad, here is a letter which has come for you. Are you willing I should open and read it?"
"I don't like to show my letters," said Conrad sullenly.
"The boy is right," said his mother, always ready to back up her son.
"I have good reason for wishing to know the contents of the letter," said Mrs. Hamilton sternly. "I will not open it, unless Conrad consents, but I will call on the brokers and question them as to their motive in addressing it to a boy."
Conrad was silent. He saw that there was no escape for him.
"Shall I read it?" asked Mrs. Hamilton.
"Yes," answered Conrad feebly.
The letter was opened.
It ran thus:
"Mr. Conrad Hill:
"You will be kind enough to call at our office at once, and pay commission due us for buying add selling fifty shares Pacific Mail. The fall in the price of the stock, as we have already notified you, exhausted the money you placed in our hands as margin.
"Yours respectfully,""BIRD & BRANT."
"I hope, Cousin Hamilton, you won't be too hard on the poor boy," said the housekeeper. "He thought he would be able to replace the money."
"You and Conrad have done your best to prejudice me against Ben."
"You are mistaken," said the housekeeper quickly, showing some evidence of agitation.
"I have learned that the letter which lured Ben to a gambling house was concocted between you. The letter I have in my possession."
"Who told you such a falsehood? If it is Ben—"
"It is not Ben, Mrs. Hill. He is as much surprised as you are to learn it now. The letter I submitted to an expert, who has positively identified the handwriting as yours, Mrs. Hill. You were very persistent in your attempts to make me believe than Ben was addicted to frequenting gambling houses."
"I see you are determined to believe me guilty," said Mrs. Hill. "Perhaps you think I know about the opera glass and this stock gambling?"
"I have no evidence of it, but I know enough to justify me in taking a decisive step."
Mrs. Hill listened apprehensively.
"It is this: you and Conrad must leave my house. I can no longer tolerate your presence here."
"You send us out to starve?" said the housekeeper bitterly.
"No; I will provide for you. I will allow you fifty dollars a month and Conrad half as much, and you can board where you please."
"While that boy usurps our place?" said Mrs. Hill bitterly.
"That is a matter to be decided between Ben and myself."
"We will go at once," said the housekeeper.
"I don't require it. You can stay here until you have secured a satisfactory boarding place."
But Conrad and his mother left the house the next morning. They saw that Mrs. Hamilton was no longer to be deceived, and they could gain nothing by staying. There was an angry scene between the mother and son.
"Were you mad, Conrad," said his mother, "to steal, where you were sure to be found out? It is your folly that has turned Cousin Hamilton against us?"
"No; it is that boy. I'd like to wring his neck!"
"I hope he will come to some bad end," said Mrs. Hill malignantly.
"If he had not come to the house none of this would have happened."
Meanwhile Ben and his patroness had a satisfactory conversation.
"I hope you are satisfied with my management, Mrs. Hamilton?" said our hero.
"You have done wonderfully, Ben. Through you I am the richer by thirty-five thousand dollars at the very least, for the farm would have been dear at five thousand, whereas it was sold for forty thousand."
"I am very glad you are satisfied."
"You shall have reason to be glad. I intend to pay you a commission for selling the place."
"Thank you," said Ben joyfully.
He thought it possible Mrs. Hamilton might give him fifty dollars, and this would have been very welcome.
"Under the circumstances, I shall allow you an extra commission—say 10 per cent. How much will 10 per cent. amount to on forty thousand dollars?"
"Four thousand," answered Ben mechanically.
"Consider yourself worth fourth thousand dollars, then."
"But this is too much, Mrs. Hamilton," said Ben, scarcely crediting his good fortune.
"Then give half of it to your mother," said Mrs. Hamilton, smiling.
"Now we can pay off the mortgage!" exclaimed Ben, joyfully.
"What mortgage?"
Ben told the story, and it aroused the lively sympathy of his patroness.
"As soon as the purchase money is paid," she said, "you shall have you commission, and sooner if it is needed."
CHAPTER XXXVI A LETTER FROM ROSE GARDINER
Ben resumed his place as the secretary and confidential clerk of Mrs. Hamilton. He found his position more agreeable when Mrs. Hill and Conrad were fairly out of the house. In place of the first a pleasant-faced German woman was engaged, and there were no more sour looks and sneering words.
Of course Ben kept up a weekly correspondence with his mother. He did not tell her the extent of his good fortune—he wished that to be a surprise, when the time came. From his mother, too, he received weekly letters, telling him not unfrequently how she missed him, though she was glad he was doing so well.
One day beside his mother's letter was another. He did not know the handwriting, but, looking eagerly to the end, he saw the name of Rose Gardiner.
"What would Rose say," Ben asked himself, "if she knew that I am worth four thousand dollars?"
The money had been paid to Ben, and was deposited in four different savings banks, till he could decide on a better investment. So he was quite sure of having more than enough to pay off the mortgage and redeem the cottage.
"Since mother is worrying, I must write and set her mind at rest," he decided.
He wrote accordingly, telling his mother not to feel anxious, for he had wealthy friends, and he felt sure, with their help, of paying off the mortgage. "But don't tell anybody this," he continued, "for I want to give the squire and Mr. Kirk a disagreeable surprise. I shall come to Pentonville two days before, and may stay a week."
He had already spoken to Mrs. Hamilton about having this week as a vacation.
