Mark nodded slightly and was about to pass without a word, when Frank said, quietly:
"I am sorry to see you coming out of such a place, Mark."
"What is it to you, anyway?" returned Mark, rudely.
"Not much, perhaps," replied Frank, calmly, "but I don't like to see my acquaintances coming out of a liquor saloon."
"It won't hurt you," said Mark, irritably.
"No, it won't hurt me, but if tho principal should hear of it, it would not be pleasant for you. You know students are strictly forbidden to enter any saloon?"
"I suppose you mean to tell on me," said Mark, hastily, and not altogether without uneasiness.
"You are mistaken. I am not a talebearer."
"Then there is no need to say any more about it. Come along, James!"
Frank's interference was well meant, but, as we shall see, it did harm rather than good.
As Mark left the saloon, he had half decided not to enter it again. He was three dollars out of pocket, and this did not suit him at all.
In fact, Mark was rather a mean boy, and it was with considerable reluctance that he had handed over to his companion the two dollars with which to pay for the games.
Moreover, he was mortified at losing the two games of billiards, when so great odds had been given him.
James Carson was no scholar, but he was sharp enough to perceive the state of Mark's feelings, and he also saw how he was affected by Frank's remonstrance.
He decided to take advantage of this, and strengthen his hold on Mark.
"Well, Mark," he said, "I suppose you'll give up playing billiards now."
"Why should I?"
"Because your stepbrother doesn't approve of it. You won't dare to go into the saloon after he has forbidden you," he continued, with a sneer.
"What do you mean, James? Do you suppose I care that"—snapping his fingers—"for what Frank says, or even thinks, either?"
"I didn't know but you might stand in fear of him."
"Do you mean to insult me?" demanded Mark, hotly.
"Insult you! My dear friend, what can you be thinking of? Why, I like you ten times as much as that muff, Frank Courtney."
"Then what did you mean by what you said?" asked Mark, more calmly.
"I will tell you. I got an idea, from what Frank said once, that he was in charge of you—well, not exactly that, but he looked after you."
This was a wicked falsehood, as Frank had never intimated any such thing. In fact, he had generally kept quite aloof from James.
Mark, however, fell into the trail, and never thought of doubting what his companion said.
"If Frank said that, I've a great mind to whip him," said Mark, angrily.
"Oh, I wouldn't notice him, if I were you!" said James. "For my part, I didn't believe what he said. I felt sure that a fine, spirited boy like you wouldn't submit to his dictation."
"I should say not—the impudent follow!"
"When he spoke to you just now," continued James, "one would really have thought he was your uncle, or guardian, and that you were a little boy."
"I'll show him what I think of him and his advice. I hadn't thought of going to the saloon to-morrow, but now I will."
"Bravo! I like your spirit!" said James, admiringly. "It is just the way to treat him. Shall I come round with you about the same hour as to-day?"
"Yes, I wish you would."
When the two boys parted company, James Carson smiled to himself.
"What a fool Mark is!" he thought. "He thinks he is his own master, but I am going to twist him round my little finger. He's a sweet youth, but he's got money, and I mean to have some of it. Why, he tells me his father allows him eight dollars a week for spending money. If I manage well, I can get more than half away from his in bets."
The next day James called for Mark, as agreed upon, and again the two boys went to the billiard saloon. The performance of the day before was repeated.
James Carson, while flattering Mark's poor play, managed to beat in every game but one on which money was staked, and came out the richer by a dollar and a half.
"I am very unlucky," grumbled Mark, in a tone of dissatisfaction.
"So you were, Mark," admitted his sympathizing friend. "You made some capital shots, though, and if I hadn't been so lucky, you would have come out the victor in every game."
"But I didn't."
"No, you didn't; but you can't have such beastly luck all the time."
"I guess I'd better give up billiards. In two days I have spent five dollars. It doesn't pay."
"No doubt Frank will be gratified when he hears that you have given up playing. He will think it is because you are afraid of him."
James had touched the right chord, and poor Mark was once more in his toils.
"It's lucky for me that Frank spoke to him," thought James. "It makes it much easier for me to manage him."
One thing, however, James had not taken into account. There were others besides Frank who were liable to interfere with his management, and who had the authority to make their interference effectual.
On the day succeeding, as James and Mark were in the campus, Herbert Grant approached them.
Now Herbert was the janitor of the academy. He also was employed by the principal to summon students who had incurred censure to his study, where they received a suitable reprimand.
It was not a pleasant duty, but some one must do it, and Herbert always discharged it in a gentlemanly manner, which could not, or ought not, to offend the schoolfellows who were unlucky enough to receive a summons.
"Boys," said he, "I am sorry to be the bearer of unpleasant news, but Dr. Brush would like to see you in his study."
"Both of us?" asked James.
"Yes."
"Are there any others summoned?"
"No."
Mark and his companion looked at each other with perturbed glances. No one cared to visit the principal on such an errand. Corporal punishment was never resorted to in the Bridgeville Academy, but the doctor's dignified rebuke was dreaded more than blows would have been from some men.
"What do you think it is, James?" asked Mark, uneasily.
"I think it's the saloon," answered James, in a low voice.
"But how could he have found it out? No one saw us go in or come out."
The billiard saloon was at some distance from the academy building, and for that reason the two boys had felt more secure in visiting it.
"I'll tell you how it came out," said James, suddenly.
"How?" asked Mark.
"You remember Frank saw us coming out day before yesterday."
"He said he wouldn't tell."
It was not very difficult for Mark to believe anything against Frank, and he instantly adopted his companion's idea.
"The mean sneak!" he said. "I'll come up with him! I'll tell my father not to give him any money for the next month. I'll—-I'll get him to apprentice Frank to a shoemaker! Perhaps then he won't put on so many airs."
"Good for you! I admire your pluck!" said James, slapping Mark on the back. "You are true grit, you are! Just teach the fellow a lesson."
"See if I don't!"
Mark nodded his head resolutely, and went into the presence of Dr. Brush, thirsting for vengeance against his stepbrother, who, he felt persuaded, had informed against him.
If Frank had known his suspicions he would have been very much surprised. As it happened, however, he did not even know that his stepbrother had been summoned to the doctor's study. Had he met Herbert, the later would have told him; but after receiving his list, it so chanced that he and his friend did not meet.
The fact was that a young man employed as tutor in mathematics in the academy, while taking an afternoon walk, had seen Mark and James Carson leaving the liquor saloon, and, as in duty bound, had reported the same to the principal.
Mr. Triangle, however, had not been observed by either of the two boys, and therefore they were led off on a false scent.
"What do you think the old man will say?" asked Mark, uneasily, as they ascended the stairs to the principal's study.
"He'll give us a raking down, I suppose," said James. "He will come down heavy on us."
"I wish I were out of it."
"Oh, it's not worth minding! We haven't committed murder, have we? What's the harm in a game of billiards?"
"Not much, perhaps; but the drinking and betting are certainly objectionable."
The boys knocked at the door, and the full, deep voice of Dr. Brush was heard to say: "Come in!"
Dr. Brush was seated at a table covered with papers, in a large armchair. He was an elderly man of dignified presence, not a petty tyrant such as is sometimes found in a similar position, but a man who commanded respect, without an effort.
Mark Manning and James Carson entered his presence a little nervously.
"Young gentlemen," said the doctor, gravely, "I am informed that you have violated one of the rules of the academy by frequenting a billiard saloon where liquor is sold."
"Who told you, sir?" asked Mark.
"That is not to the purpose," said the principal, gravely.
"But I should like to know who informed on me," persisted Mark.
"Whoever did so acted as your true friend, Manning; but there is no occasion for you to know who it was. Is it true?"
Mark would have been glad to deny the charge, and would not have felt any scruples about doing so, if it would have done any good. But it was clear, even to him, that he would not be believed, and that denial would only make his position worse. So he made a virtue of necessity, and answered:
"I have been in once or twice, sir."
"Exactly how many times have you been to the saloon?"
"Three times."
"What did you do there?'
"We played billiards."
"Did you order anything at the bar?"
"Yes, sir," said Mark, reluctantly.
"Carson, you accompanied Manning, did you not?" said Dr. Brush, turning to Mark's companion.
"Yes, sir."
"And I suppose you also played billiards and drank?"
"Well, yes, sir, I believe I did."
"You were aware, were you not, that it was against the regulations of the school?"
"I suppose it must have slipped my mind," answered James, trying to look as innocent as possible.
Dr. Brush frowned, for he saw clearly that this was but a subterfuge.
"If this were true," he continued, "it would be no excuse. As students, it is your duty to make yourselves acquainted with the rules that govern the institution. In point of fact, I cannot believe that either of you is ignorant of the rule forbidding students to frequent places where liquor is sold. It is hardly necessary for me to defend the propriety of this rule. Intemperance is a fruitful source of vice and crime, and I cannot allow the youth under by charge to form habits of indulgence which may blast all their prospects, and lead to the most ruinous consequences."
"We didn't drink much," said Mark.
"I shall not inquire how much you drank. In drinking a single glass, you violated the rule of the school, and I cannot pass over it."
"What is he going to do with us, I wonder?" thought Mark.
He was not required to wonder long.
"As this is your first offense, so far as I know," proceeded the principal, "I will not be severe. You are both suspended from the institution for the remainder of the term, and are required to leave Bridgeville by the early train to-morrow morning for your respective homes. I shall write to your parents, explaining the cause of your suspension."
But a week remained of the term, and the punishment was mild, but both boys were mortified and left the study crestfallen.
Mark was the first to recover his spirits.
"It is not so bad, James," he said. "To-morrow will be Saturday, and I should go home, anyway. I don't mind staying at home next week."
"What will your father say?"
"Oh, I'll make it all right with him! I don't mind much what he says. I guess he got into scrapes himself when he was a boy."
"My father isn't so easily managed. Just as likely as not, he'll cut off my allowance for a month; and that'll be no joke!"
"My father won't do that," said Mark. "If he did, I would raise a fuss."
"Would that do any good?"
"I'll bet it would!"
Frank, who was quite ignorant of Mark's trouble, was surprised when the latter approached him a little later with a frown and said, harshly:
"You won't make anything by what you have done, Frank Courtney!"
"Will you be kind enough to tell me what I have done?" asked Frank, calmly.
"You've been to Dr. Brush and told him about our playing billiards."
"You are entirely mistaken, Mark. I did not suppose he knew."
"It must have been you. He told us some one had informed him, and you were the only one who knew. It's a mean trick, isn't it, Carson?"
"Awfully mean!"
"I have already told you that the information did not come from me. It may be the best thing for you that it has been found out, for it was doing you no good to frequent such places."
"I don't want to hear any of your preaching, Frank Courtney. I guess I can manage my own affairs without any advice from you."
"I don't care to intrude any advice," said Frank. "I have not much reason to feel interested in you."
"You'd better look out how you treat me, though," said Mark, insolently. "I know very well you dislike me, but it won't be safe for you to show it while you are a dependent on my father."
"I don't propose to be a dependent on him long," said Frank, quietly. "The truth of it is, you and your father are dependent upon property which of right belongs to me. The time may come when I shall be able to show this."
"What does he mean?" thought Mark, uneasily. "Will he contest the will?"
It was perhaps an evidence of Mark's shrewdness that he had some doubts about the validity of the will under which his father inherited.
Mark so represented his school difficulty to his father that he incurred but slight censure.
Indeed, Mr. Manning was so absorbed in plans for getting the greatest enjoyment out of the estate of which he had obtained possession by doubtful means that he didn't care to be disturbed about such a trifle as his son's suspension.
He felt more disposed to blame Frank, whom Mark charged with betraying him.
"What does Frank say about it?" asked Mr. Manning.
"Of course he denies it," said Mark, "but it can't be any one else."
"He is acting very unwisely," said Mr. Manning, compressing his thin lips.
"So I told him, but he said he didn't mean to be a dependent on you long."
"How is he going to avoid it?'
"I don't know."
"I have had some intimation from Col. Vincent, who appears to be in his confidence. He wants to leave us."
"To go away?"
"Yes."
"But you won't let him?"
"I have been thinking about that, Mark, and I may give my permission. The fact is, he stands in the way of some plans I have formed. I am thinking of traveling."
"Not without me?" said Mark, hastily.
"No; you shall go with me, but I don't care to take Frank."
"You might leave him at school."
"I might, but how do I know that he might not hatch some mischief while we are gone?"
"He might make some fuss about the property," suggested Mark.
"Has he hinted anything of that kind to you?" asked his father, quickly.
"Yes. Only yesterday he said that the property belonged by right to him."
Mr. Manning looked thoughtful, and watched Mark narrowly to see if from his manner he could divine the boy's intentions.
Later that same evening, Mark having retired early in consequence of a headache, Frank found himself alone with his stepfather, and took advantage of the opportunity to speak of the plan he had formed.
"Mr. Manning," he said, "if you are at leisure, I should like to speak with you a few minutes."
"Proceed," said his stepfather, waving his hand.
"But a week remains of the school term. Did you propose that I should return there at the end of the vacation?"
"Humph! I had not thought much on the subject."
"It has all along been intended that I should go to college when prepared, but I don't think I care much about it."
"In that case," said his stepfather, with alacrity, "you would only be throwing away time and money by going."
He was quite ready to agree to Frank's surrender of the college plan for two reasons.
A college course would be expensive. Again, should he turn his attention to the law, he might hereafter give him trouble about the estate.
"I don't think I should throw away my time, for, if I went to college, I should go there to work faithfully; but I have a fancy for a more stirring life."
"It might be a good plan for you to learn a trade," said Mr. Manning, reflectively.
"Learn a trade!" exclaimed Frank, in surprise.
"Yes; it would always enable you to earn a living."
"Do you intend Mark to learn a trade?" asked Frank, quickly.
"No; his case is very different from yours."
"Why it is different?"
"It is not necessary for me to explain," answered his stepfather, stiffly.
"If there were any need of it, Mr. Manning, I would not object to learn a trade," said Frank. "I have no false pride on the subject. But my tastes are more for mercantile business."
"I may be able to find you a place somewhere. I have a friend in the dry-goods business, who would receive you at my recommendation."
"Thank you!" said Frank, hastily. "But if you will allow me, I would prefer to look around for myself."
"What is it you want, then?"
"Your permission to go out into the world, and try to make a living."
"And if you don't," said Mr. Manning, "I suppose you expect me to defray your expenses?"
"If I did have such an expectation, I think I should be justified, in view of the large property which my mother left," said Frank, pointedly.
"She left it to me," said his stepfather.
"So it appears, at any rate. But I shall not call upon you to pay my board. Give me your permission to go where I please, with a small sum of money to start me, and I shall be satisfied."
"And what will the world say? That I, your stepfather, to whom you have a right to look for maintenance, had driven you out to earn your living! It would be unjust, of course, but the world is ever unjust."
And Mr. Manning assumed a look of wronged innocence, which would have imposed on anyone who knew him but slightly.
"I shall defend you from any such charge," said Frank. "I shall say that you were only yielding to my request."
"I will think of it, my dear boy," said Mr. Manning, graciously. "I already feel inclined to grant it, because it is your request. I shall be sorry to be separated from you; but I am willing to sacrifice my own feelings, if it will give you pleasure."
This did not impose upon Frank, who had a correct idea of the degree of fondness which Mr. Manning had for his society, but he was too well satisfied with the prospect of obtaining the permission he desired to imply any doubts.
"Again," continued his stepfather, "whatever you may say to the contrary, I know that the world will censure me; but I shall have the approval of my own conscience, and with that I can defy the world."
Mr. Manning certainly did look like a righteous man when he said this, and he beamed upon his stepson with a glance that was actually affectionate.
"Go back to school," ho said, "and when you return I shall be able to give you a definite answer."
Indeed, nothing could have suited Mr. Manning's plans better. He would get rid of the care and nearly the whole expense of his obnoxious stepson, while with his son Mark he would be spending the revenues of the estate which belonged to Frank.
During the coming week he arranged his plans for a prolonged absence from the Cedars. He wrote to New York to engage passage on a steamer bound for Liverpool, and quietly waited for the end of Frank's school term to release him from a care which had grown burdensome.
Frank returned to the Bridgeville Academy without Mark. As may be supported, however, he did not feel the loss of his society.
He at once communicated to his chosen friend, Herbert Grant, his probable departure from school.
"I am sorry to hear it, Frank," said Herbert, soberly. "Do you think you are acting wisely?"
"I am not acting as I would have done had my mother lived," answered Frank; "but you must remember that my position in life has very much changed. I am a poor boy."
"Hardly that, when there is so much property in the family."
"I know Mr. Manning too well to believe that I shall derive much benefit from it. No, Herbert, I have my own living to make, and I want to make it in my own way."
"It is a sad change for you, Frank."
"No, I can't say that. I don't know how it is, Herbert, but I am rather glad to have all this thrown upon me. I enjoy feeling that I have got to work."
"I have a chance of enjoying the same feelings," said Herbert, with a smile.
"I wish we could start together, Herbert. Couldn't you go with me?"
Herbert shook his head.
"Father has a plan for me," he said. "I am to learn his trade, and shall commence next week. I don't particularly like it, but it is well to have a trade to fall back upon."
"Mr. Manning wanted me to learn a trade."
"There is no occasion for your doing so."
"I don't know about that. If I had a particular fancy for any, I wouldn't mind choosing it, but I am better suited for something else."
"What is your plan? What will you do first?"
"My father has a cousin in the city of Newark, New Jersey, only a few miles from New York. Four years ago, he and his family made us a visit, and he was urgent then that we should return the visit. I will, first of all, go to him, and ask his advice. He is a business man, and he may be able to put me in the way of obtaining a position."
"I think you will succeed, Frank, but it will be harder than you think for. You don't know what poverty is yet. I have never known anything else."
"If I do succeed, Herbert, I may be able to find something for you."
"I wish you might," Herbert replied; but he was not as sanguine as Frank.
He understood, better than his friend, that for a boy to set out alone into the great world to earn a living is a serious undertaking.
Frank had fixed upon the Tuesday morning succeeding the close of the academic term for his departure from home. Monday was devoted to a few necessary preparations and a few calls on old friends, among them Col. Vincent, the owner of Ajax.
"My dear Frank," said the colonel, kindly, "I feel a strong interest in your welfare, more especially because of the wrong which I do not scruple to say has been done you. What does Mr. Manning say to your plan?"
"He makes no objection," said Frank.
"Suppose he had done so?"
"I would not have run away. He is my stepfather and guardian, and I would have endured staying at home as well as I could."
"There you are right, Frank. Though I have a poor opinion of Mr. Manning, he is not likely to treat you in a manner to justify your going away without his permission. From what I have heard within the last week, I suspect that he feels relieved to have you go."
"What have you heard, sir?"
"That Mr. Manning will shortly sail for Europe, taking Mark with him."
Frank was surprised, having no suspicion of this.
"Now are you not sorry that you have decided to go out into the world to earn a living when you might have seen something of the Old World?"
"Mr. Manning would never have taken me along," answered Frank, quietly, "nor should I have enjoyed traveling with him and Mark."
"Of the two, who would interfere the more with your enjoyment?"
"Mark."
"Then you prefer the father to the son?" said the colonel.
"The father has much more agreeable manners. I don't think Mark could be agreeable if he tried."
Col. Vincent smiled.
"Perhaps you are right, Frank," he said. "Now, as your father's old friend, I shall exact a promise from you."
"What is it, sir?"
"You are going out into the world to earn your own living. Boys of your age are apt to think it an easy thing. I have seen more of life, and I am sure you will find it more difficult than you suppose. You may find yourself in difficulty, possibly in want. In that case, promise to let me know, and I will come to your assistance."
"I will, sir," answered Frank.
The time came for Frank to say good-bye to Mr. Manning and Mark, and the house which had been his home from infancy.
His stepfather handed him a small pocketbook.
"Frank," he said, "in this pocketbook you will find twenty-five dollars. It is not much, but—"
"I am satisfied, sir," said Frank. "It won't be long before I am earning something."
"I hope your anticipations may be realized, but it is possible that you may require help."
"I think not, sir."
"I will authorize my banker to pay you the same sum—twenty-five dollars—every three months. Of course, it is not enough to support you; but, as you say it is your intention to procure a place—"
"Yes, sir."
"It will probably be enough to make up any deficiency that may exist in your income. I am aware that you do not regard me as—as I would like to have you; but I am resigned to be misunderstood, and I merely call your attention to the fact that I have given you my free permission to carry out your own plans and have given you more assistance than you asked for."
"That's true, sir."
"Should anyone in your hearing condemn me for what I have done, I depend upon your defending me."
"I will state the facts, sir. I will take the entire responsibility for anything that may result from the step I have taken."
Mr. Manning looked well pleased. Things were taking the course he desired, and for the paltry sum of one hundred dollars a year, he was getting rid of an obnoxious stepson, while appearing to confer a favor upon him.
"Perhaps you are right, Frank," said his stepfather, disguising the satisfaction he felt. "If, however, you should find that you have made a mistake, you will do me the justice to remember that I gave you your choice."
Knowing, as he did, that the offer was not genuine, Frank remained silent. He could not make up his mind to express gratitude, and therefore said nothing.
Here the carriage drove up to the door to convey Frank to the railway station. Mindful of appearance, Mr. Manning accompanied him to the cars, and in presence of several neighbors bade him an effusively affectionate farewell.
So Frank was fairly started on his campaign.
Erastus Tarbox kept a dry-goods store in the city of Newark, New Jersey. He was well to do, not so much because of his enterprise and skill as a merchant as because of his extreme poverty. Some people called it parsimony. He only employed two clerks to assist him in his store, and they, as well as the boy who carried out parcels and ran the errands, were paid scarcely more than two-thirds the rates paid in neighboring stores.
Mr. Tarbox prided himself upon his relationship to the Courtneys. They were rich, and riches, in his eyes were a great merit. He often sighed to think that there was no chance for him to benefit by a share of the large property owned by his cousins. Without hope of personal advantage, however, he had always been obsequious to them, and often took occasion to mention them, by way of enhancing his own social credit somewhat.
Mr. Tarbox had heard of Mrs. Courtney's death, but had not heard the particulars of the will. He took it for granted that Frank was sole heir, and it did cross his mind more than once how very agreeable it would be if he could be selected as guardian of the rich young heir. Of course, he knew that there was no probability of it, since the stepfather would undoubtedly be appointed to that position.
Mr. Tarbox had just sold a calico dress pattern to a poor woman, when his attention was drawn to the entrance of Frank Courtney, who entered his store, valise in hand.
Mr. Tarbox was rather short-sighted, and did not immediately recognize the son of his rich cousin.
"What can I do for you, young man?" he asked, in his business tone.
"This is Mr. Tarbox, I believe?" said Frank, who did not know his relatives very well.
"Yes, that is my name."
"I am Frank Courtney."
"Bless my soul!" ejaculated Mr. Tarbox, surprised and delighted. "When did you arrive in Newark?"
"I have only just arrived."
"I do hope you are going to make us a visit," said Mr. Tarbox, cordially.
"Thank you!" answered Frank, cheered by this warm reception. "If you are sure it won't inconvenience you."
"Inconvenience me! We shall be delighted to have you with us."
"You must come up and see Mrs. Tarbox. She will be delighted to see you."
Mr. Tarbox lived over his store. There was a door from the street adjoining the shop front. Mr. Tarbox opened it with a pass-key, and conducted Frank upstairs, ushering him into a gloomy parlor, with stiff, straightbacked chairs, ranged at regular intervals along the sides of the room, and a marble-topped center table, with two or three books lying upon it. There was a framed engraving, representing Washington crossing the Delaware, over the mantel, and two plaster figures and similar ornaments on the mantelpiece. The whole aspect of the room chilled Frank.
"Wait here, and I will call my wife," said Mr. Tarbox.
Frank sat down on a hard sofa and awaited the entrance of Mrs. Tarbox.
She came in, a tall, thin woman, about as handsome for a woman as her husband was for a man. Indeed, they were very well matched. She was quite as mean as he, and between them they managed to make annually a sensible addition to their world possessions.
Mr. Tarbox privately hinted his hopes respecting Frank to his wife, and she instantly agreed that it would be a most eligible arrangement.
"We must make him contented, my dear," said her husband. "Give him the best bedroom, and I think it might be well to have something a little extra for supper."
"I did intend to put on the rest of that cold mutton," said Mrs. Tarbox, doubtfully.
"It won't do, Martha. There is only a little of it, you know, and the boy has been traveling, and, of course, is hungry. What do you say, now, to some nice beefsteak?"
"Beefsteak is high now," said Mrs. Tarbox. "Still, if we buy round steak—that is cheaper than sirloin or tenderloin."
"And quite as good," said her economical partner. "We can tell Frank, however, that no sirloin was to be had so late in the day at the markets."
Mrs. Tarbox nodded her head, approving the suggestion.
This little matter being adjusted, the husband and wife entered the parlor where our hero was waiting patiently.
"This is our young cousin, Martha," said Mr. Tarbox, smiling pleasantly.
"Welcome to Newark," said Mrs. Tarbox, extending her hand. "And how did you leave your stepfather?"
"He is well," said Prank, coolly.
The two exchanged glances. It was clear that Frank did not like his stepfather, and this was satisfactory to them. There was the more chance of his leaving him and boarding with them.
"The children will be so glad to see you," said Mr. Tarbox; "won't they, Martha?"
"Delighted!" assured the lady.
"Pliny must be about your age. How old are you, by the way?"
"Sixteen."
"Just Pliny's age. Do you remember him?"
Frank remembered a tall, thin stripling who had accompanied his parents to the Cedars, and who appeared to have an inexhaustible appetite.
"Yes, I remember him. Does he go to school?"
"No; Pliny is in a store," answered Mr. Tarbox.
"Your store?"
"Oh, no! I thought it would be better for him to enter the employ of a stranger. He is in a bookstore."
There was one great advantage in Pliny's entering the employ of a stranger. He was paid four dollars a week, whereas Mr. Tarbox paid his boy but two. Here, then, was a clear gain of two dollars a week.
"But you must be tired," said Mrs. Tarbox. "You will see the children at supper. Martha, I think Frank would like to go to his room."
The best bedroom was over the parlor. It was rather more cheerful, because lighter.
"Here," said Mr. Tarbox, "you must make yourself at home. Martha, isn't one of the drawers in that bureau empty? I thought so. Take your clothes out of the valise and put them away. Now, is there anything you would like?"
"Only a little water to wash in," said Frank. "You are both very kind."
"We hope to make you comfortable. You are our relative, you know."
The water was brought up by Mrs. Tarbox herself, and Frank was left alone, on the whole well pleased with his reception.
It never occurred to Frank that his cordial reception was wholly due to his supposed wealth. Had he known the Tarbox family better, he would have had no uncertainty on this point. As it was, the discovery was soon made.
"All my olive branches are for you, my dear young cousin," said Mr. Tarbox, waving his hand. "A peaceful, happy family. Children, this is our esteemed relative, Frank Courtney. You remember visiting his delightful home, the Cedars."
"Yes, pa," said Julia.
Pliny said nothing, but stared at Frank, inwardly considering whether it would be possible to borrow some money of him.
"I am glad to meet you all. I hope we shall become better acquainted," said Frank politely.
"No doubt you will," said Mr. Tarbox. "They are rather bashful, but they long to know you."
"How are you?" said Pliny, in a sudden burst of sociability.
"Pretty well, thank you!" answered Frank, finding it rather difficult to preserve his gravity.
"I am in a store," said Pliny.
"In your father's store?"
"No. He wouldn't pay me as much as I get where I am."
Mr. Tarbox looked embarrassed.
"A smaller boy answered my purpose," he said, in an explanatory manner. "Pliny is suited for higher duties. But our supper is ready. It is frugal compared with yours at the Cedars, my dear Frank, but you are heartily welcome to it."
"It looks very nice, Mr. Tarbox," said our hero, "and I have not been accustomed to luxurious living."
This answer pleased Mr. and Mrs. Tarbox. Even if Frank should become a boarder on liberal terms, they didn't wish to spend too much on their table.
"We couldn't get sirloin steak," said Mr. Tarbox; "but I hope you will find this good."
"No doubt I shall," said Frank, politely.
"Won't you have another piece of steak?" asked Mrs. Tarbox.
Frank saw that there was but a small piece left, and, though his appetite was not wholly satisfied, he answered:
"No, thank you."
"I will!" said Pliny, quickly.
Mrs. Tarbox frowned at her son, but did not venture to refuse in the presence of her guest. She cut off a small portion of the steak, and, with a severe look, put it on the extended plate of Pliny.
"You've got a good appetite, Pliny," said Julia.
"So would you have, if you had to work like me!" grumbled Pliny.
After the steak came an apple pie, which was cut into seven pieces. Mrs. Tarbox managed to make Frank's piece a little larger than the rest.
Her husband observed it with approval. He was very desirous that Frank should be satisfied with his fare.
When Pliny rose from the table, saying that he must be getting back to the store, Frank rose also.
"I will go with you," he said, "if you have no objection. I would like to take a walk."
"Come along," said Pliny. "I should like to have company."
"You will be a great deal of company for Pliny," observed Mr. Tarbox, rubbing his hands with satisfaction. "Just of an age and of congenial tastes."
Frank hardly expected to find Pliny very congenial, but he wished to obtain some information, which he thought the latter could give him, and he also wanted to see something of Newark.
"I say, your name is Frank, isn't it?" commenced Pliny:
"Yes."
"The old man's awful glad to see you."
"I am glad of it. He has received me very kindly."
"Got up an extra supper for you. We don't often get steak for supper."
This was rather an embarrassing revelation, and surprised Frank somewhat. The supper had not seemed to him at all extra. It would do, but was far from luxurious.
"I hope you'll stay with us a good while," continued Pliny.
"Thank you."
"You see we shall live better while you are with us, and the rest of us will be gainers."
"I don't want to put your father to any unusual expense."
"Oh, he can afford it! But he's stingy, father is. He doesn't spend any more than he can help."
"It is best to be economical, I suppose."
"When you don't carry it too far. I say, Frank," continued Pliny, lowering his voice, "you can't lend me five dollars, can you?"
Frank regarded Pliny with astonishment. The proposal was very abrupt, especially when the shortness of their acquaintance was considered.
"Are you particularly in need of money?" asked Frank.
"Well, you see," said Pliny, "I want it for a particular purpose."
"Why not ask your father for it?"
"Oh, he'd never let me have it!"
Now, in Frank's present circumstances, five dollars represented a good deal of money. He was the more impressed with the necessity of economy since he had found out how small were the wages paid in stores to boys of his age.
He did not feel at all inclined to grant Pliny's request, especially as he had a strong suspicion that it would be a long time before the sum would be returned.
"Why do you apply to me, Pliny?" he asked, seriously.
"Didn't your mother die and leave you a big property? Father says you must be worth more than a hundred thousand dollars."
"Your father probably has not heard of the will," said Frank, quietly.
"What was there in the will?" asked Pliny.
"The whole property was left to Mr. Manning."
"Who is he?"
"My stepfather."
"And nothing to you?"
"Nothing to me."
"But he's got to take care of you, hasn't he?"
"It was expected, but I am going to earn my own living, if I can."
Pliny stopped short in blank amazement and whistled.
"Then you haven't got a lot of money?"
"No."
"Won't your stepfather give you a part of the property?"
"I haven't asked him, but I don't think he will."
"And why did you come to Newark?"
"I thought your father might give me some help about getting a place."
"If this isn't the richest joke!" said Pliny, laughing uproariously.
"Where is the joke? I don't see it," returned Frank, inclined to be angry.
"The way you have taken in the old man. He thinks you are rich, and has treated you accordingly—got up an extra supper and all that. Oh, it's too good!"
"I certainly didn't intend to take him in, as you call it," said Frank. "The sooner you tell him the better."
"I'll tell him," said Pliny. "I shall enjoy seeing how provoked he'll be."
"I think I will leave you," said Frank, shortly. "I will take a walk by myself.
"Well, don't lose your way. Oh, I wish the store was shut! I want to tell the old man."
And Pliny laughed again, while our hero walked off in disgust.