While he was at it Dick visited every place where he fancied there was the least chance of finding an opening.
The result was not very encouraging.
In nearly every instance he was greeted with a negative shake of the head, and the information that since the dull summer season was at hand, instead of taking on more help the chances were there would be less required.
When he came to the substantial stone building in which the bank of Harvey Gibbs had its quarters, he hesitated, and heaved a sigh, for it seemed folly to think of venturing in there, much as he yearned to go.
And as he stood taking a longing look through the fine plate glass windows where he could see several men at work on the books, and the cashier just getting ready to wait on the first customer of the morning, who should come tripping along the street but consequential Charles Doty, the boy who ran messages for the bank, and made himself generally useful between times, looking toward the time when he was to be elevated to the president's chair, as he often whimsically declared.
Charles was prone to indulge in early morning naps, and there were times when he could be seen sneaking into the bank long after he was supposed to be at work. Still, he could stir himself when the necessity arose, and thus far had managed to hold his position.
At sight of Dick looking so longingly into the bank he was brought to a sudden halt, and something like suspicion flashed into his eyes.
Doubtless he knew of the other's yearning toward the life of a bank clerk, and it may be that he feared Dick was about to try and supplant him in the job he had been holding so long.
At any rate Charles, though already late, thought it good policy to stop and engage his friend in a brief conversation, meaning to convince Dick as to the utter folly of ever thinkinghecould obtain a situation under so strict a business man as Mr. Gibbs.
"Hello! Dick. What you thinking about now? Look like you meant to come around here some fine night and swipe the entire business. Beware of bulldogs and traps for the unwary, my boy. We keep a heavy guard over our millions," he laughed.
Dick showed no signs of resentment, knowing that this was only boyish badinage, and he understood Charles even better than the other imagined.
"Don't lie awake nights for fear ofmybreaking in and running off with your whole establishment,Charlie. I haven't even got the price of the wagon that might be needed to cart away the gold. But I did have designs on the place, in one way. Do you happen to know how business is just now, and whether the bank has need of any more help? I'd be willing to act as porter, or anything else for the sake of getting started in there," with a wistful look through the open window toward the busy interior of the enclosure where the cashier and teller were working like a hive of busy bees.
"I guess the porter racket hasn't a leg to stand on, for you see they've got a man and his family on the payroll, and he looks after the furnace in the winter, as well as does all the sweeping out and such menial tasks. But it might be possible that they could make room for you as my assistant. You see duties have kept piling up on me all the time, and I'm the hardest worked man in the institution just at the present minute."
Charles did not even smile as he made this monstrous assertion; he saw his opportunity for tying the hands of the other, and was slyly playing his little game with that idea in view.
Dick did not believe one half that the other said, and yet he was so anxious to get in touch with some one in this place of business that he could not see any harm in pretending to take Charles seriously.
"Will you put in a good word for me, then, Charlie?" he asked.
"Sure I will. I don't forget that you did me a bully favor one time when I was trying some fancy stunts backward on my skates, and tumbled through a hole in the ice. Say, I'll watch for a chance to speak to Mr. Gibbs the first time he calls me in to talk over business matters. If he's in a pleasant frame of mind he may tell me to get help, and I'll speak of you. But see here, old fellow, you mustn't expect to have the salary I receive in the beginning. I don't suppose they'd think of paying more than ten dollars to start with."
"A week?" asked Dick, smiling in spite of himself.
"To be sure. You didn't think I meant a month, did you. But I'm really too busy to spare any more time just now, Dick. You leave it to me and I'll try and do all I can to get you in. Don't be impatient. These things sometimes take time to work up, you know. A man in our line of business has to learn to be cautious, and not make mistakes. So-long, Dick," and the bank messenger flew up the steps of the stone building, his countenance changing as he stepped in through the door, for he saw the cashier looking at him with a frown.
That interview with Dick, entered into from purely selfish motives, might yet cost Charles dear.
As for Dick, he turned away with the smile still upon his face, showing that he had not been deceived to any great extent by the argument of his boy friend.
As Dick had now reached the end of his string, so far as applications for work went, for that day at least, he started for home.
Mrs. Morrison met him at the door, and her eyes searched anxiously to discover the true feeling that might lie back of Dick's cheery smile; he was so prone to put on a brave face, no matter what the difficulty, that she found it hard to tell just when things were going wrong with him.
"Nothing doing to-day, mother. Better luck to-morrow, perhaps. I've got a few irons heating in the fire, and one of them may get hot at any time. But just as soon as I can get into my old regimentals I'm going to dig some bait, and then me to the fishing bank. Wish me luck! At any rate I can get probably enough bass for our supper, and if things turn out well I may have some to sell."
He was off in a hurry, for time was passing and the best hours for fishing had really gone by; to-morrow he would be up at daylight, and while other boys might be yawning at being called to breakfast Dick would be found hovering over his favorite hole, tempting the finny tribe with the fattest of worms and grubs.
When he came in a short time later from getting his bait Mrs. Morrison had some lunch prepared, knowing that he had to go quite a little distanceup the river to do his fishing, and might not want to tramp all the way home at noon.
"I would have done that myself; but you are the dearest little mother on earth. Look for me about supper time. I wouldn't stay so late, but you know the fish sometimes take to biting again just near sundown; and a fellow hates to give up when they act as if they were hungry. If I have too heavy a load I might make some arrangement with old Ben Carberry to loan me his rig; so don't be surprised if you see it backing up to the door," and with a laugh he ran off.
As the antiquated horse anddilapidatedvehicle owned by old Ben had been the joke of the town for many a year his allusion was understood by Mrs. Morrison; so that she found herself also laughing as she in imagination saw the astonishment of the neighbors should such a thing occur, which, of course, was about as likely as a gold mine being discovered in their back garden.
Whistling as he went, Dick proceeded along the road.
Boy-like he was always on the watch for a chance to get a ride, and being overtaken by a farmer's wagon on the way home from early market he asked permission to climb in behind.
"Get up here along with me, Dick," replied the old gray-whiskered countryman, making room on the seat, for he happened to know the lad, perhapsbecause Mr. Morrison had plied his trade as carpenter around the entire section years ago.
Of course Dick gladly took advantage of the opportunity, and the farmer soon engaged him in conversation, asking about his mother, and telling several things in connection with his father that the boy had never heard before.
They were of a character to make him proud, for no one ever had anything but good words to say of the honest and thrifty carpenter, whose work always bore the most rigid scrutiny, and could be depended on.
"Where are ye goin' fishin', son?" finally asked the old man, possibly thinking of days long since gone by when he too used to take advantage of every chance to slip away from the heavy work of the farm, and, with pole over his shoulder seek the quiet retreats along that same river to coax the timid bass from the depths.
"I've got a hole just around the eddy below the big shelf of rocks. You see it's so far away the boys in town never get up there, and I generally have great luck. Then I know of half a dozen other spots nearly as good. I'm going to try and get some fish to sell to-day. You see, Mr. Prentice, I've got to bring in some money to help out at home until I get a position in some store," replied Dick.
"I'd like to have you work for me, boy, only if you came you'd have to be there all the time. Ourchores must be did before daylight. Sometimes we get up at one or two in the mornin' so as to get an early start in to market. I calculate that you wouldn't wanter leave your mam alone all the time. Does ye credit, Dick. I remember Tom's wife right well, and she was allers a right good housekeeper. Ye can't do too much for her, son. But about that ere fishin' hole, dye know I believe 'twas the same I used to hook 'em out of thirty-odd year ago. Is it the ripple just back o' Banker Gibbs' place?"
"Why, yes, that's it. And you used to catch bass there that far back? I'd just like to see all the fish that have come out of there then, in all these years. I reckon they'd stack up pretty high, and bring a good price peddled around at the doors of Riverview folks. But here's where I must get down. I take a short-cut through the meadow and the woods right to the hole."
"Same short-cut, same hole, same kind of boy, allers ready to go fishin'. Good luck, Dick. I calculate you'll come out all right. Any boy of Tom Morrison couldn't help hittin' the mark in time," called out the genial old farmer, waving his whip cheerily after the active lad.
"Thank you for the lift, Mr. Prentice. If I can't make a go of it any other way I may look up that job you spoke about," Dick called out; and then turning hurriedly climbed a fence that brought him to the meadow.
The fish did not seem in any great humor for taking hold that morning, although the weather conditions were just perfect for the sport, from the view of the boy who had his several poles in favorite places along the bank.
When he first threw in he had a bite before he could get his second hook baited, and the prize was a good pound fish, a beauty that made him exclaim with delight, and consider it a good omen.
But after that the nibbles were few and far between.
The summer sun mounted high in the heavens, and snowy clouds floated across the blue expanse; tired of sitting and watching his various bobs Dick finally settled back with his head on a bunch of grass and watched the beautiful picture above, his thoughts taking flight, as frequently happens with a boy who possesses an imagination.
Perhaps he dreamed day dreams as he watched the fleecy clouds sailing past, each an argosy of boyish hopes; perhaps he saw in imagination a delightful future when he and his mother would be placed beyond anxieties, and surrounded by all that could go to make up happiness in this material world.
Now and then he would arouse himself and examine his lines to see whether the bait were properly adjusted so as to present a tempting display to the bass; and occasionally he would pull in a capture, though they seemed to run in small comparison with the first prize.
Unless business picked up during the afternoon he rather guessed he would have to be satisfied with only a mess for the morrow's dinner.
"I'll get after the rascals bright and early to-morrow morning. No use talking, just after daylight at this time of year is the time to haul in these fellows. But I'm going to stick it out if it takes all day."
So saying he began to look around to discover if there was any other kind of bait he could offer the big fellows he knew were loitering around deep down in that dark water.
He had brought along a piece of mosquito netting to use as a little seine, by means of which he could possibly pick up a few minnows in a certain shallow they liked to frequent.
This he had done on the preceding season, and the change of diet had tempted the bass to take hold with gratifying results.
So he got the net out and was soon endeavoring to trap a few small fry.
He had made a miniature pond a foot or two in width along the side of the river, and into this he meant to drop any bait secured, to keep them alive until wanted.
But even the minnows had almost entirely forsaken that shallow at this time of day, for after working industriously a whole hour he had only succeeded in trapping three.
One of these he used at once, but it brought no success, for the hour was now near noon.
Dick munched at his lunch and watched his floats pensively as the time crept on.
Up to three o'clock he had had only one more bite, but he managed to land the late diner, which proved to be at least the equal of his first capture.
Then came another long wait.
About four he concluded to try another minnow, hoping that the bass were arousing from their mid-day nap and would feel like partaking of a bite.
The river was very pretty just here, and the current rather slow, for the banks had widened; only for this deep hole the stream was shallow, and since the rains had been few and far between of late Dick fancied he could almost wade across to the opposite shore should the occasion arise.
Strange to say the idea of taking a swim had not occurred to him, as it certainly must have done hadthere been another boy along; he was too much engrossed in his fishing, and the laying out of plans for the future to think of these material joys so dear to the heart of the ordinary boy.
Just as he had fastened the minnow to his hook, and gently floated this out to the most promising place in the pool he thought he heard voices somewhere close by.
When he listened again he learned that it was a girl's voice he heard.
And strange to say it seemed to come from up the river a little, just around the bend; indeed, as he listened he certainly heard the sound of oars working in the rowlocks, and again a merry voice called out.
Then Dick nodded his head and smiled.
"I know now. It's Bessie Gibbs in her boat. I remember that last year I saw her out rowing once when I was going home. She may come down this way. I wonder who is with her. Seems as if I can't catch any other voice, and yet she is laughing and talking as if somebody was along. I'll soon know, for she seems to be just around the bend, and coming down-stream."
It was curious to see the boy look down at his rather patched garments just then when there was a possibility of a girl coming on the scene.
"Wonder if Bessie would know me with my old regimentals on? I'm rigged out for fishing, and Ican't afford to wear the only decent suit I own for this sort of thing. Perhaps she won't want to know me. All right, who cares? But she never seemed that sort of girl at school. I always thought Bessie the prettiest one in the whole bunch. Great Caesar! what's that mean?" he cried, for a shrill scream suddenly smote his ears.
He sprang to his feet and immediately started to run along the bank, heading up the stream, for the point of land with its clump of trees cut off his view.
The screams still continued, accompanied by a splashing of water that alarmed Dick more than ever, for he was now sure that Bessie Gibbs must have fallen overboard, and was in danger of drowning.
He burst through the bushes and stood on the shore.
His first sight of the river at this point relieved him greatly, for he discovered the rowboat half way across, with a little maid in it frantically trying to recover one of her oars that had slipped away in the excitement of the moment.
There was also something struggling furiously in the water at a little distance, and which Dick could not make out at first; but when he shouted at the top of his voice and started to wade out toward the spot the girl turned toward him and wildly beckoned, at the same time crying out:
"Oh! save him, save my poor Benjy—he will drown! Dick!pleaseget him for me!"
It was not a human being in peril at all, only Bessie's pet Angora cat, a fuzzy little creature Dick remembered seeing on the seat of the Gibbs carriage one day when he met Bessie on the road, and she nodded to him, just as friendly as ever.
He pushed resolutely out to where the wretched little beast, having fallen overboard through a miscalculation, was being carried down-stream by the current and in sore peril of meeting death by drowning, since cats are but poor swimmers at best.
Dick was not a cruel boy by nature, and while he might have hesitated about placing his own life in jeopardy in order to save a cat, still, this one was the especial pet of a girl who had been his classmate in school for several years.
The water grew deeper, and soon he had to swim, which, considering the fact that he was burdened with his clothes was not the easiest thing in the world to do.
But Dick had always been noted for his ability to look out for himself in the water, and he was not long in reaching the struggling creature.
DICK MANAGED TO CATCH THE LITTLE TERROR BY THE NAPE OF THE NECK.DICK MANAGED TO CATCH THE LITTLE TERROR BY THE NAPE OF THE NECK.
Dick the Bank BoyPage 53
He received one scratch from its claw as the frightened cat tried to secure a lodging on his head, but by a little cautious work Dick finally managed to catch the little terror by the nape of the neck, and finding lodgment against a sunken boulder forhis feet he waited until the boat containing the little miss floated down to him, when he tossed poor Benjy over the gunwale, a ridiculous looking object to be sure, but at least safe and sound.
"Oh! Dick, climb in; you may be drowned yourself!" cried Bessie, making as if to seize hold of the lad who had so promptly gone to the rescue of her pet.
At that Dick laughed aloud.
"I'm too much of a waterdog for that, Bessie. But while I'm in I might as well do the whole thing. Now watch me go after that floating oar of yours," and so saying he started to move down-stream again.
This time he drew the boat after him, and just opposite his fishing hole he managed to overtake the runaway oar, now held against a jutting rock, and speedily placed it in the possession of the girl.
"Won't you go home with me to get dried out, Dick?" asked Bessie, looking at him in sincere admiration as he stood up in the water, and pulled the boat toward the shore.
"What, me? Why, this is a picnic for a boy at this time of year. I'm going to wring the worst of it out, and then row your boat back up the river for you. Why, long before I go home my luxurious fishing suit will be dried on me. Saves pressing, you know, Bessie. And by cutting a few sticks likeclothes-pins I can snap them on along the front and get a beautiful crease!"
She laughed at his merry conceit, for Dick had always been a favorite of hers among the school companions of other days.
He was as good as his word, and persisted in rowing the boat back to the landing from which she had started out; while Bessie sat there fondling her Angora kitten, and rubbing its bedraggled hairy form with her little handkerchief.
Dick went back to his fishing, amused at his little adventure, and never once suspecting what a tremendous influence such a small thing was destined to have on his whole future.
To his delight he found another captive tugging furiously at the line on which he had placed his minnow, and it proved to be by far the largest prize of the day, very little short of two pounds.
"To-morrow I will try and get a lot of live bait. I believe they fancy them at this season of the year. What, that last one hardly sank down before it was taken and this seems to be a jim-dandy of a boy too by the way he pulls. I hope I don't lose him now," and he began to play the captive as cautiously as his experience in landing tricky bass had taught him how.
After successfully tiring the fish out he managed to get him on the string with the others, but he had no more minnows, and as the fastidious bass wouldnot look at common earth worms after that Dick was compelled to give up for the day, take his fair-sized string of fish and poles, and start trudging homeward.
Perhaps Dick did not walk quite as briskly as usual while trudging homeward, for he was certainly pretty well tired out, and what with the poles and fish he had quite a burden to carry.
But he felt pleased to think that the day had been so filled with little happenings, from his unsuccessful search for work, the ride with the friendly farmer who had offered him a place, the fishing-hole industry, and last, but not far from least, the rescue of Benjy and succeeding gratitude of pretty Bessie Gibbs.
He was glad it had beenhercat; he would sooner do a favor for Bessie than any girl he knew; for while her father was probably the richest man in Riverview she had never put on any airs like the Harkness girls, who passed him in the street and looked right through him without a smile.
About half way home he met a carriage coming out from town.
It contained several people, and Dick quicklyrecognized it as the Gibbs vehicle—yes, and that Bessie was one of those who made up the party.
He stepped out of the road to let it pass; and had it been possible Dick would have tried to conceal himself behind a tree; but he feared Bessie must have already seen him, and would laugh at his desire to avoid being thanked for his afternoon's rescue.
Just as he feared, the carriage came to a stop before reaching him, and he saw Bessie leaning forward, beckoning wildly to him.
"Dick, please come here. Mamma wants to thank you for saving our poor little Benjy. He has dried off beautifully, and looks whiter than ever. I don't believe his swim hurt him a little bit. I hope you didn't catch cold, Dick," was what he heard her saying.
There was nothing for it then but to advance to the side of the carriage.
Mrs. Gibbs was a refined lady, and perhaps a little given to believing that there are few things in this world that cannot be settled by a money consideration.
She felt grateful to the boy for saving the pet of her daughter; she knew who he was and that his father had been a carpenter, an honest man and with a reputation for respectability around Riverview, but she could not imagine for a moment that she would hurt the feelings of a boy by offering hima reward for wading into the river and taking a drowning cat out.
"Yes, I hope you will not suffer from your immersion, Richard. It was very kind, indeed, of you to go to such trouble for the sake of a poor cat. And, perhaps, something might have happened to Bessie too, she is so excitable when anything occurs. I hope you will let me reward you in some way. Won't you accept this, please? You must have quite ruined your clothes by your brave act, and perhaps this will purchase another suit," said the lady, holding out what Dick saw was a ten dollar bill.
He felt the blood fly to his face.
Then he looked down at his old garments, which he only donned for garden work or fishing, and afterwards glanced up at Bessie, to laugh aloud.
"I guess I'm like Benjy, Mrs. Gibbs, and that the ducking did my clothes more good than harm. These are my fishing duds, ma'm. And if you please I'd rather not take any reward for pulling the poor little kitten in out of the wet. It was only sport for me, and I was glad to be there to save him for Bessie. Besides, I know my mother would not like it if I took pay for doing so small a thing," he said.
"What did I tell you, mamma?" exclaimed Bessie, impulsively, as though she had begged her mother not to offer the boy money.
The lady looked at Dick seriously for a minute,as if unable to exactly understand the motives that influenced him to act as he did.
Then she smiled and remarked:
"Just as you say, Richard. I suppose you know best; but even though you will not let us recompense you in any manner, we still feel that we are under obligations to you for what you did. You seem to have had good success in fishing?" noticing the fine string he was holding at his side.
"It has not been a good day. I hope to do better to-morrow, for I have an idea of going into the business for a while, and supplying families with fresh caught fish, while waiting to secure a position. It is necessary that I do something to help out at home, since my mother has all she owns invested where it happens to be tied up just at present, ma'm."
Had he dared, Dick would have liked to have mentioned the fact that it was the secret hope of his heart some day to find an humble opening in the bank of which the lady's husband was the head; but he lacked the boldness to speak.
"I am sure the spirit you show is commendable enough, my boy. Your mother has need of feeling proud of so affectionate a son. I have often wished we had a boy to follow in the footsteps of Archibald; but Heaven saw fit to take three from us when they were babies. Perhaps in some way we can showyou that we do appreciate what you did for Bessie this afternoon, Richard," the lady remarked.
"She thanked me, Mrs. Gibbs; that was enough for me," he replied, and somehow Bessie blushed as she met his laughing eyes.
Then the carriage drove on, and Dick stood there looking after it with a queer feeling in his heart; he was wondering what the uncertain future had in store for him, and if his dear little mother would ever see the day when she could ride in her own vehicle.
He heaved a long sigh, and once more plodded along the road; but somehow he did not seem quite so tired as before meeting the carriage that contained Bessie Gibbs and her mother.
He found supper ready, and the usual warm welcome from his waiting mother.
And over the meal he described in detail all that had happened during that rather eventful day.
She hung upon his every word, for like most fond mothers she believed there could be no boy like her own; and when Dick told in as dramatic a manner as possible how he had chased across the point upon hearing those shrill screams, she waited in real suspense until he described what really met his view upon bursting forth, and the change from impending tragedy to a farce was so great that Mrs. Morrison sank back in her chair, smiling, but looking a little pale.
"I remember Bessie very well. Last winter she sang in the church choir with a number of your school companions; and I think I recollect that you saw her home one night when some accident happened to the horse, and no vehicle came after her," she mused, looking roguishly at Dick, who blushed as he turned the subject.
Before going to bed Dick spent half an hour digging more bait, and then even enlarged the little homely seine made of mosquito netting; if the fish must be tempted with minnows it was up to him to give them what they wanted, and in order to make a decent haul of live bait he knew that a larger net was necessary.
He was up before dawn, and gone before his mother came downstairs to get breakfast; but this did not surprise the good woman, for she knew Dick's ways, and that if his heart was set on anything he never let the grass grow under his feet.
So shortly after sunrise the boy was settled at his old stamping ground alongside the favorite hole, and had his lines out ready for an early prize; while he worked his little seine and scooped up many fine minnows to be transplanted into the shallow pond made ready for their occupancy.
And his prediction seemed in a fair way of being fulfilled, for he was kept busy baiting his lines, so fast and furious became the rush on the part of thefinny denizens of the pool behind the big eddy for a breakfast.
He seemed to have come at just the right time, and offered them the very bait they were eager for.
His string increased at a surprising rate, and after the sun had been up a couple of hours Dick saw that he had a mighty fine lot of beauties to dispose of.
Later on as the bites grew fewer, and he found he had some time on his hands, he proceeded to dress his fish, and cover them with cool leaves in the basket he had brought along for this very purpose.
Before noon he started back to town, resolved to dispose of his catch.
He could not expect to do as well as this every day, but there was certainly twenty pounds of fine fresh fish in his basket, and he believed he could readily sell them for a couple of dollars.
He had already picked out certain houses where he meant to offer his wares; and it can be readily guessed that the Gibbs mansion wasnotone of the number, although it stood not far away from his starting point; just why this should be so the reader must be left to imagine—perhaps it was because he was afraid he would be thanked again by Mrs. Gibbs for saving the life of the pet Angora; perhaps he somehow did not fancy appearing again in his old clothes before Bessie; perhaps,—but surely every boy must understand how Dick felt about it.
Just as he expected, he met with flattering success in disposing of the contents of his basket; for while Riverview was situated on a stream that seemed bountifully supplied with fish few persons made it a business to secure enough of them to offer any for sale; and what could be found on the stands in the markets had come from Boston, and were packed in ice, so that their delicate flavor had been much impaired.
At about three, then Dick headed toward home, quite satisfied with his day's work.
He jingled a handful of change in his pocket with the cheerful air of one who has earned every penny of it—just two dollars and twenty cents, surely enough to pay him for his early rising.
His mother was out when he got home, probably having just stepped over to see a sick neighbor; and Dick, entering the house, dropped into a chair to rest a little before going out to dig more worms for the morning.
It was while he was stretching himself out that his eyes chanced to fall upon a letter on the table, and to his surprise it was addressed to "Richard Morrison."
He snatched it up filled with wonder, for he could hardly remember ever having received a letter before, though once a former boy friend had written him from Florida where his father had gone for his health.
And his eyes distended still more when he saw up in the corner of the envelope the printed words: "First National Bank of Riverview."
With trembling fingers Dick tore the envelope open.
Sitting there in the easy chair Dick read the few lines that composed the letter which his mother must have taken from the rural delivery man at the door. It was in typewriting too, and signed with the name of Harvey Gibbs.
"Richard Morrison: I understand that you are seeking a position. Will you call upon me Friday morning about half-past ten."
"Richard Morrison: I understand that you are seeking a position. Will you call upon me Friday morning about half-past ten."
That was all; but it could not have given that boy more of an electric shock had it been a communication of a thousand words.
What did it mean?
He read it again and again, and gradually the only explanation that could be attached to so clear a request came into his mind—why, they meant to offer him a position in the bank—his dream seemed in a fair way of being realized.
Was it Charles who had done this—could it be possible that the boasting one really did have more or less influence with the president?
He smiled at the thought.
Then his mind roved in another direction, and he realized that after all his humane act of the previous day must be bearing fruit; Bessie and her mother had told Mr. Gibbs about the saving of the wonderful Benjy from a watery grave, and no doubt also related how the boy had declined to take any money as a reward for his kind deed; then one of them must have mentioned the fact that Dick had said he was looking for work, and this had led the banker to write to him.
It was glorious, and he jumped up to meet his mother, whom he discovered coming through the back garden just then.
She was surprised to see him home.
"No use telling me you have been successful, my boy, for your face tells the story better than words," she declared, laying down a dish in which she had doubtless carried some little tempting dainty to the sick woman; they might not have much themselves; but there were always others worse off.
Dick put his hand in his pocket and drawing it out, said:
"Guess how much for my morning's catch?"
"A dollar," she replied, always entering into the spirit of his pleasantry.
"More."
"And a half then?"
"Still short, mom, try again."
"Not two, Dick?" with delight in her eyes.
He emptied his hand into her waiting ones.
"Two dollars and twenty cents. I consider that I had pretty fair luck for bass fishing. You know how freakish they are about biting. I had made up my mind I'd give them a whirl to-morrow, but now I find it will be impossible. My other engagements are too pressing."
She looked at him as though puzzled to guess his meaning, whereupon Dick, unable to restrain himself any longer, snatched up the precious letter and held it for her to see.
When she managed to make out its contents she stared at him, half laughing and crying at the same time.
"How splendid! And just what you have always wished, Dick. Oh! I'm so glad! How nice of Mrs. Gibbs, and—Bessie!" she exclaimed; for her woman's intuition had instantly jumped at the truth which Dick had only reached after more or less floundering in the mire.
Her dear arms were immediately around his neck, and Dick knew that, pleased as he might be at the fortunate happening, his feelings could never keep pace with hers.
He could think of nothing else the balance of the day, while doing some little work in the garden; and scores of times he figuratively hugged himself in congratulation over his good luck.
Dick did not dig any more bait; in fact he wascareful to put away his poles and lines, because, as he said to his mother, if he expected to go into the business harness now he would have little time for fishing.
That evening was a long one to him.
He thought it would never come time to retire; and after he snuggled down in bed it seemed as if he could not settle to sleep, so many things kept popping up in his mind to engage his attention.
But morning came at last.
Dick was up early, and started to dig some more ground in the garden, for the last planting of vegetables, beans and late corn.
"At any rate," he said at breakfast, as he leaned back and looked at his mother happily, "the hours are not early in a bank, so that I shall have plenty of time to do the chores around, and even look after my part of the garden before going to work."
"There will not be a great deal to do from now on that I cannot manage, my boy. I shall want you to keep your mind principally on your business, and, whatever it may be, do it with your whole soul. I expect to live to see you at the top rung of the ladder some day, Dick. You have your father's perseverance, and the desire to do everything as well as any person could possibly do it. I do not fear for your future," she said, proudly.
About ten o'clock Dick started out.
He was trembling a little as he kissed his mother,and there was a tear of sympathy in her eye when she waved him goodbye as he turned around down the road to look back.
If ever a mother's prayers and good wishes went out after her boy those of Mrs. Morrison followed him as he strode manfully along, with his head held erect and the light of determination in his eyes.
When he drew near the bank he swerved and passed along, but not from timidity; it lacked seven minutes of the time Mr. Gibbs had set, and Dick had learned that a busy man is often almost as much annoyed by a premature caller as by one who keeps him waiting.
So the town clock was just striking the half hour when he walked into the bank.
Dick had been inside the place more than once, on some errand for his mother; but it had never looked just as it did on this morning, when he surveyed it as the possible field of his future industries.
He went over to the teller's window.
"Good morning, Mr. Winslow, can I see Mr. Gibbs?" he asked.
The receiving teller glanced quickly up, for when any one asked to see the president personally it usually meant particular business.
To his surprise the speaker was only a boy; and as he recognized Dick he shook his head a little dubiously in the negative.
"Mr. Gibbs is a busy man, generally, and unlessyou have some very important business with him I hardly think he could see you," he replied.
"But my business is important, to me anyway. I have come to see him about a position here," said Dick, calmly.
"Then you had better see Mr. Goodwyn, the cashier. He has charge of all the employing; Mr. Gibbs never troubles himself in that line. First window around the corner there."
"But I have an engagement with Mr. Gibbs. He expects me at half-past ten this morning, sir," pursued Dick, beginning to feel a trifle alarmed lest after all something happen to disturb his rosy dreams of the future.
Mr. Winslow opened his eyes and once more condescended to peer out of his little window at the boy who made this astonishing statement.
"An engagement with Mr. Gibbs—well, of course, that alters the complexion of things considerably. We have no one to show you in just now. Open that door yonder and rap on the first one you see to the right. It will have the words 'President's Office, Private,' on it," he observed, looking more closely at Dick, and then smiling as though some thought gave him pleasure.
As the boy moved along Mr. Winslow turned to the other teller and said something in a low tone that caused him to grin broadly; and then give a quick look around in the direction of the desk where Dickhad been told the cashier, Mr. Goodwyn, was stationed.
Dick found the door and the inscription, just as the teller had told him.
He drew in a long breath, set his teeth together, and then knocked boldly.
"Come in," some one said, and opening the door he found himself in the presence of the biggest magnate of Riverview, Mr. Gibbs, the banker.
Of course Dick had seen him many times before; but somehow he had always viewed Harvey Gibbs as one placed upon a pedestal, far removed from the common herd; as a boy he could understand such people as Ezra Squires and Mr. Graylock, but a silent man, known as a shrewd financier, was far beyond his ken.
Mr. Gibbs had been writing, but looking up as the boy entered he smiled pleasantly as though pleased with his appearance.
"Sit down here a minute or two, Richard, until I finish this paper, which is of importance, and requires my signature later. I will be ready to talk with you presently," he said, moving a chair out in a kindly way.
So Dick waited, meanwhile looking curiously around him at the luxurious office, which, in his eyes was as finely furnished as any palace could be.
He was pleased to think that his business was to be transacted with Mr. Gibbs in person rather thanthrough the medium of the teller, Ross Goodwyn, a small keen-eyed young-old man with a bald head, and doubtless the capacity to fit him for his responsible job, but whom Dick had never liked; twice he had talked with him on matters connected with his mother's affairs, and each time the cashier had seemed to take a cruel pleasure in making him "feel small," as Dick himself expressed it.
Still, if he was to come into this institution as an employee he would have to get over this feeling toward Mr. Goodwyn, who undoubtedly would have considerable to do with him.
That three minutes seemed an age to poor Dick, settled on the anxious seat.
Finally the banker sat up and rang a bell, whereupon one of the tellers made his appearance, the document was signed, and then as Mr. Payson went out Dick found himself alone with the head of the firm.
"Now I can give you a few minutes' time, Richard. Please move your chair a little closer, so that we need not talk so loud. It is rather a peculiar combination that is responsible for your appearance here this morning," he said, pleasantly; and somehow the boy lost all his former fear for the usually austere banker.
"Am I right in assuming that you are looking for a position, Richard?" was the first thing the banker said.
"Yes, sir. You probably know the trouble my mother is having with her investment, for she has conducted all negotiations through your bank. Until that company resumes the payment of dividends we shall have rather a hard time to get on. And I have made up my mind to give up school, for the present, at least, and get work of some kind," said the boy, clearly.
"Good for you. Your object is surely commendable. I understand that you have already been making a start in that line?" pursued Mr. Gibbs.
"Do you mean with Mr. Cartwright, sir?" asked Dick, wondering how the other had managed to hear of this.
"Yes. He was in here doing some business yesterday, and spoke of you."
"That was mighty nice of him, sir. I would gladly have continued on with him, but you see his son,who had been sick, got well enough to come back, and that knocked me out of a job."
"Very inconsiderate of Toby, too. But Mr. Cartwright, who is one of our directors, and a heavy stockholder in this bank, recommended you to me as a trustworthy young fellow who could be depended on to do your best always. That is the rule we follow here; no matter how menial the task, do it as near perfect as lies in your power."
"It was Mr. Cartwright, then—I thought—" began Dick, and stopped short.
"What did you think, Richard; tell me?" asked Mr. Gibbs, smiling.
"I thought that perhaps Charles might have said something. He promised to recommend me if you ever needed an assistant to help him out, he was so busy."
"Oh! yes, just so, you mean Charles Doty. Unfortunately he was not able to save himself, much less use his powerful influence toward getting another in here. In fact, my boy, it is to fill his place that I am now engaging you," observed the gentleman, pointedly.
"Then Charlie has gone—I expected he would not last. He likes to sleep too much in the morning. I used to have to go and pull him out of bed whenever we went fishing last year," remarked Dick, nodding significantly.
"That was just the trouble—it took Charles toolong to get started. He may find more congenial employment in some other line; but he would never do for the financial business. But I spoke of a curious coincidence. You are doubtless wondering what I mean by that. Someone else recommended that I give you a trial. Can you guess who it was?"
The reddening face of the boy announced that he at least had a suspicion.
"That was only such a small thing to do, Mr. Gibbs. Any fellow could pull a poor little kitten out of the water. It wasn't really deep enough to drown me, anyhow; and I guess it would take more than that to do the business, for I'm a duck in the water, sir."
"All right, but I've known many boys who would take a fiendish delight in seeing a kitten drown," retorted the gentleman.
"But—that was Bessie's kitten!" said Dick, hastily.
"Oh! yes, so I see. Well, at any rate you did a good thing all around, Richard, pleased my wife and daughter, and opened the way to a situation for yourself in the bank here. Mr. Cartwright tells me you have always wanted to be connected with an establishment of this kind, and he says that you are unusually quick and accurate with figures—in fact, he calls you a wonder in that line; but all our employees would seem such to him, doubtless. Can you go to work to-day, Richard? We let Charlesoff yesterday, and while the porter is doing some of his usual work there are many errands that should be attended to."
"I am ready to commence right now, sir," responded Dick, getting up with his usual alacrity.
"Good. I like to hear a lad talk that way. But by the way, you have not asked anything about wages."
"I'm willing to leave that entirely to you, sir. I am sure you will pay me all I am worth to the bank," said Dick, simply.
He could not have made a more diplomatic reply had he been a schemer instead of a frank single-minded lad.
"Good again. I begin to think that it was a fine thing for all of us that Charles overslept so frightfully yesterday. We paid him eight dollars a week to begin with, Richard."
"Yes, sir. I shall be very glad to receive that, if you consider that I can fill the bill."
"But, for the last two months we have been paying Charles ten. Now, I am of the opinion that you are going to be even more valuable in the start than he was at the finish of his banking career, so I shall instruct the bookkeeper to put you on the payroll at ten dollars. That will do for the present, Richard. I am going to take a personal interest in your progress. I knew your father, my boy, and respected him highly."
"Thank you, sir," said Dick, as he withdrew; and there were tears in his eyes which he had to wink very hard to dry out; but it was not the fact that he was to receive such splendid wages at the beginning of his business career that affected him half so much as this constant allusion to the honorable name his father had left behind as a heritage for his son.
Thomas Morrison might not have been able to lay up a fortune before he was called to another world; but he had at least won for himself the regard and esteem of his neighbors during all the years he labored in and around Riverview.
Presently Dick was being instructed in his duties by one of the friendly tellers.
While this was going on the cashier came out of his little room.
"Who's this boy, Payson?" he asked, frowning at Dick.
"I think you know me, Mr. Goodwyn; I am Mrs. Morrison's son. I have been in to see you several times on business," returned Dick, calmly.
"But what are you doing inside the railing now?" continued the cashier.
"Mr. Gibbs has given him the place of the messenger boy, Charles, Mr. Goodwyn," remarked the teller, a little vindictively, Dick thought.
The cashier frowned.
"Why, I spoke only yesterday to Mr. Gibbs abouta nephew of mine I could recommend for that position; I don't understand how it comes he has taken this thing out of my hands. Heseldominterferes with the hiring of help. I must see him about it at once," and he hurried away to interview the president.
"Much good it will do him," remarked Payson to his fellow teller; "I've seen the fellow he wants to put in here, and so has Mr. Gibbs; and I must say I didn't like his looks. Goodwyn has to help support his family, I understand, and it's more his wish to lighten his own load than to get us a clever messenger, that impels him to recommend his nephew. Make your mind easy, Dick; there will be nothing doing."
And apparently there was not much satisfaction in the brief interview which the cashier had with Mr. Gibbs, for when he came back presently he hastened into his little den, nor did he have a word to say to anyone.
Only Dick feared that he would find Mr. Goodwyn a hard taskmaster, on account of this incident; and he regretted it very much, believing it would handicap him more or less in his work.
But the others soon came to like the new messenger exceedingly, he was so clever, so obliging, and withal so bright; both tellers declared at the close of the day's business that they had never knownso little trouble in getting their errands executed in a lucid manner.
At noon Dick bought himself a little luncheon, for he was too far away from home to spend half an hour walking to and fro each day; after this he meant to bring something with him; no matter if it were only bread and butter, it would be much better than this "sawdust," as he contemptuously called the cake he had purchased at the town bakery.
It was just at two o'clock that a most peculiar incident occurred, and one that gave Dick considerable amusement.
He was waiting in the outer room for a paper which the president intended sending to the post office to go by registered mail, when who should come in but Ferd Graylock, accompanied by his father; who, as one of the officers of the bank, went straight back to the room of the president without ceremony, leaving his son in the public waiting-room.
Of course Ferd immediately spied Dick there and sauntered over, with his customary air of importance.
"Hello! Morrison, what are you doing here? I didn't you know you were a depositor in our bank," he said, with a patronizing manner that at first made Dick grit his teeth, and then caused him to smile as a sudden suspicion flashed across into his mind.
"Oh! I drift in occasionally to drop a few hundred thousand for safe keeping," he replied, in a spirit of irony.
"Whatareyou here for anyway?" demanded Ferd, eyeing the other with a sneer.
"Just waiting for something at present."
"Oh! I see, your mother has probably been making arrangements to borrow on her tied-up investments. It's hard lines, old fellow. Now, you ought to do something in the way of business, instead of spending your time fishing, as I hear you are doing. I expect to branch out that way myself. My old man says my school days are over, because my report was so very depressing this term. He believes I would make a splendid banker; and he's just gone back to consult with Gibbs about starting me in here."
"Oh!" was all Dick trusted himself to say.
Apparently that position formerly occupied by the departed Charles was not going around begging for applicants; nor was the cashier the only one who had his eye upon it.
"Of course I will have to begin low down so as to get a grasp upon the details and technical points of the financial side of the business; but I'm willing to learn. Here comes the governor now; I guess he has it clinched."
If he did he certainly showed little signs of satisfaction as he came up, for he simply glared at Dick.
"Come on, son, back to the store. I think you'll have to begin your mercantile career behind a dry goods counter after all," he snarled.
"But the position that was open to me here, with a chance to rise?" exclaimed Ferd, looking aghast at this unexpected explosion of his hopes.
"It is open no longer, Mr. Gibbs himself filled it. And that young interloper has stepped into your place," pointing his trembling finger at Dick.
"What!you?" cried Ferd, hardly able to believe his ears, "impossible!"
Just then the paying-teller called out.
"Richard, here is the letter to be sent registered; and on the way back stop in at Underwoods and leave this notice of a note coming due to-morrow."
"Yes, sir," said Dick, hurrying out; while Ferd followed more slowly, a frown on his face and his teeth gritting with anger.
Being quick to learn, it did not take Dick long to grasp the scope of his new duties, and by the end of the second week he had gained the good will of every person connected with the bank, from the president down to the porter—with one single exception.
This was Ross Goodwyn, the cashier.
Somehow that individual seemed to take it as a personal affront that Dick had been chosen to fill the vacancy caused by the discharge of Charles.
He had figured on filling it with his nephew, and since as a rule these things were left to his discretion he felt very much aggrieved because Mr. Gibbs had for once gone over his head.
Being a sensitive man he imagined that the other employees were forever chuckling in their sleeves over his defeat, and hence he misconstrued every little incident that arose to be a slur aimed at his vanished authority.
It made him most unhappy.
And certainly Dick did not enjoy the thought of having this clever man classed as his enemy, for inthe course of his duties about the bank he necessarily came into frequent contact with the cashier, and it was unpleasant to feel that the other was eyeing him constantly, as though ready to pick a flaw in his conduct.
Perhaps it also made Dick more careful than he might ordinarily have been, and in this way worked for good.
The bookkeeper's assistant, a young man named Kassam, frequently ate lunch with Dick, as his people lived at a distance, and he did not scorn to bring a bite to the office with him daily.
There was a little room back of the offices where some papers and books were kept, such as the big safe could not accommodate, and here the two would often sit and chat as they disposed of their luncheon.
Pliny Kassam was a diligent fellow, who meant to make his mark some day; he had a mother and a raft of little sisters at home, for whom he seemed to entertain a sincere affection.
It was the similarity in their conditions that first drew the boys together; for each of them had lost a good father, though Kassam's people were in comfortable circumstances.
It was one noon hour when Dick had been with the bank about three weeks, that his friend for the first time mentioned a subject that had a distinct bearing on the messenger's personal affairs.
In the course of the general talk Dick chanced tomention the name of the cashier, as having sent him upon a certain errand.
Pliny glanced around and unconsciously lowered his voice as he said:
"I'd advise you to keep your eye on Mr. Goodwyn, Dick, and when he asks you to do anything make sure that you carry out his wishes to a dot. He has it in for you on account of his disappointment about this position he wanted for that nephew of his."
"I always try to do exactly as I am told, no matter whether it is the cashier who gives the order or the bookkeeper. But I don't believe Mr. Goodwyn would stoop so low as to try and injure a fellow who had never done him any harm. I knew nothing about his nephew. The place was offered to me, and as I had to work I accepted it only too gladly. I hope Mr. Goodwyn will soon be as good a friend to me as anyone else in the bank," replied Dick, earnestly.
"Oh! don't mistake me, now, old fellow. I wouldn't for the world hint that our clever cashier would dream of doing you any harm, or trumping up a false charge against you. Those things happen often enough in the stories we read, but in real life very seldom. But there are other ways of getting into trouble, you know."
"Just how?" asked his companion, puzzled andnot a little worried by the mysterious manner of Kassam.
"Well, suppose that something happened, as it frequently does, when things go wrong, and some careless person has misplaced a valuable paper—we know that after a certain amount of hunting it will be found, for it could hardly get out ofourdepartment; but in your case it would be different, for your work takes you outside. If the circumstances looked in the least suspicious, I mean that Mr. Goodwyn would be apt to condemn you off-hand. Just make up your mind to be unusually careful, that's all."
"See here, Pliny, you have some reason for telling me this, haven't you," demanded the other, anxiously.
Again his companion cast that instinctive hasty look around him, and the reason was obvious, for Mr. Goodwyn's little department was just at the other side of the thin partition, and if he happened to be in at this hour, which would be unusual, he could possibly hear voices raised above the ordinary, and as his decision was generally the controlling factor in the matter of employment, Pliny might find himself looking for another job.
"Well, to tell the truth I have. You were out yesterday at noon when I was eating my lunch, and he happened to be in his room when Mr. Graylock called to see about some business matter. Theytalked rather loud, for you remember Archibald is a trifle deaf, and raises his voice at all times. I couldn't help but hear, although I paid no particular attention to what they were saying until I happened to catch your name mentioned."
"My name?" echoed Dick, anxiously.
"Yes, and of course that caused me to sit up and take notice, for I thought it kind of queer that two business men in consultation should think about a boy who had nothing to do with their affairs at all," went on Pliny, lowering his voice still more, until its mysterious character affected Dick seriously, and he even found himself quivering with eagerness.
"Who brought me into the conversation first?" he asked.
"I think it was Graylock, for I heard him ask how you were making good, and from the plain sneer in his tone when he spoke I knew the old fellow was just hoping Mr. Goodwyn would say not at all, and that he would have to make a change."
"But he didn't—don't tell me he saidIwas a failure?"
"Oh! no; on the contrary he admitted that you seemed to be getting along pretty well, though he also spoke about the new broom sweeping clean, and that no doubt when the novelty had wore off you would show up just as many faults as Charlie had."
Dick breathed easier.
"I am glad he said a good word for me, anyhow.Wait and see if I go backward. I'm more determined than ever to make good here, for I believe that the one chance I wanted has come to me. What did Mr. Graylock say to that, Pliny?" he asked.
"He sneered at it in that nasty way he has, and he was mighty bitter when he declared that he had no faith in you. He even said you had come to him to ask for a job, and he felt constrained to turn you down because he had heard certain things in various quarters that reflected on your honesty—nothing positive, but just little straws that generally show which way the wind blows."
Dick half sprang out of his seat, and his face grew red with anger and mortification.
"I haven't liked Mr. Graylock from way back, but it never entered my head that he was a man who would descend to actual lies to get even with a boy who happened to cut his son out of a job. That was about as mean a thing as any man could ever hint at—no proof, but only general suspicion, and on that he would ruin my reputation with my employers. It's hard to stand that, Pliny, mighty hard!" he breathed, clinching his hands and looking as though he had half a mind to hurry around to the big department store and demand an explanation and an apology from the owner.
"Just what I said to myself at the time—old Graylock is a cur, a mean, mangy cur, that's what he is. And because I detest him so I made up my mind youshould hear what happened to come to my ears. Mind you, I'm not a listener, and under ordinary circumstances I'd have stopped up my ears."
"It was kind of you to tell me, Pliny. I'll be more careful than ever how I do things now. Mr. Graylock offered me a position in his store, and told me to take off my coat and go to work; but as he only gave three dollars a week I had to decline. I suppose he can't quite forgive me for walking out. Perhaps I did say something a little sarcastic at the time, but who could help it when a man had even gone so far as to sneer at my father for declining to put his money into that store business of his?"
"Served him just right—three dollars a week, eh? And they do say he works his help like a mule driver. If that man doesn't get to be a millionaire it will be because he is so small he makes mistakes that a larger grained man never would. That is the law of compensation, my boy. And I hate to say it, but Graylock ended up by warning Mr. Goodwyn that if he were in his shoes he would keep a sharp eye on a boy who had had no father these many years to train him right. That kind of hit me too, and I couldn't help shaking my fist at the old curmudgeon through that partition."
"It was a mean trick, if I do say it. I ought to be glad, I suppose, that I happen to have nothing to do with Mr. Graylock. Even if he had offered me living wages I hated to think of working for him.But let's drop the subject. I'm glad you told me this, Pliny, unpleasant as it has been."
"You won't say anything to a living soul?"
"Of course not, not even to my mother, though it's little I ever keep from her. She would only worry about it, and what's the use? I must look out for myself. Depend on me to keep mum," replied Dick, quickly, reaching out a hand and shaking that of the assistant bookkeeper heartily.
"You know there is a knothole in that partition over there, and if a fellow cared to he could look in and see what Mr. Goodwyn was doing; but I wouldn't want to be guilty of that low trick. Hearing what was said in a loud voice was another matter; I couldn't help that," declared Pliny.
Then they talked of other things; though Dick was unusually sober the balance of that day, and every time Pliny caught his eye he gave a little shake of his head as though warning the messenger not to show his feelings so plainly.
Perhaps Mr. Goodwyn may have noticed the look on Dick's face when he had occasion to talk with him, and it may have given his conscience a little stab or so, for he seemed more than ordinarily pleasant to the lad.
Poor Dick was already learning that there may be a cloud upon the horizon ready to darken the bright skies, no matter how cheerful things may have looked heretofore; he had secured the situation thatwas the dream of his heart, but already a fly had dropped in the ointment.
The baneful influence of Mr. Graylock seemed capable of reaching him through the dislike of the cashier, and sooner or later he was apt to suffer because of that unnatural combination.