Frank felt like an impostor when he discovered that his cordial reception was wholly owing to the belief that he was his mother's heir.
The situation was unpleasant, and he was impatient to have Mr. Tarbox undeceived. He was sure that Pliny would lose no time in revealing his true position, and decided not to return to the house of Mr. Tarbox till nine o'clock, when the story would have been told.
He wandered about aimlessly till he heard the city clocks strike nine, and then rang the bell at his relation's house.
The family, with the exception of the two younger children, were assembled in the common sitting room.
As Frank entered, instead of the cordial welcome he had previously received, he noticed a look of coldness and constraint on the faces of Mr. and Mrs. Tarbox, while Pliny looked as if some stupendous joke was being perpetrated.
"Good-evening!" said Frank, politely. "I have been taking a walk."
"My son Pliny tells me," said Mr. Tarbox, "that you have not inherited your mother's property."
Frank bowed.
"And that it has gone to your stepfather."
"It seems so."
"I am amazed."
"So was I, sir."
"Your mother has practically disinherited you?"
"It was not my mother, sir," said Frank, hastily. "I can't explain it, but I'm sure she would not will away everything from me."
"Do you suspect your stepfather of anything irregular?" asked Mr. Tarbox, briskly.
"I would rather not answer your question, sir. I don't care to make any charges which I cannot prove."
"And so Mr. Manning has sent you out into the world to earn your own living, has he?"
"No, sir. He has consented that I may do so. It was my own plan."
Much as Frank was prejudiced against his stepfather, his natural sense of justice would not allow him to accuse him unjustly.
"Did he suggest that you should come to me?" asked Mr. Tarbox, in a tone which Frank did not like.
"No, sir."
"So that was your idea, too," continued Mr. Tarbox, with a palpable sneer.
"Yes, sir," answered Frank. "You are not a very near relative, but the nearest I know of, and I supposed you would be willing to give me some advice about the best means of earning my living. I remembered," he could not help adding, "that my mother received you all as guests for a considerable time, and I thought I might take the liberty."
"Oh, certainly!" returned Mr. Tarbox, rather abashed. "I am, of course, ready to give you advice, and my first advice is to seek a lawyer and let him institute a suit against your stepfather, on speculation. That is, he gets nothing if he fails, but obtains a commission if he succeeds. I could myself recommend a reliable man."
"Thank you, sir; but I have no present thought of contesting the will."
"I think you make a mistake. Do I understand that you expect to earn your own living?"
"I shall try to do so."
"You will find it very difficult. You may expect me to take you into my own store, but there is no vacancy, and—"
Frank hastily assured Mr. Tarbox that he had no such expectations. He had no wish to deprive the errand boy of the two dollars a week, which he probably richly earned.
"Situations in Newark are not easily obtained," proceeded Mr. Tarbox. "I am willing that you should stay with us a day or two, but I don't think you will find it worth your while to stay here."
Mr. Tarbox feared that his young relative might expect to find a home free of charge in his house, and such an arrangement did not suit his economical ideas. There was no profit in it, but, on the contrary, a positive loss. Frank read clearly the thoughts of his host, with the help of what Pliny had told him, and, expressing his thanks very briefly, announced his intention to go to New York the next morning.
"It may be the best thing you can do!" said Mr. Tarbox, relieved. "New York opens a much wider field to a boy of enterprise than Newark, and probably you will pick up something to do."
"It won't be my fault, if I don't," said Frank.
"You have my best wishes," said Mr. Tarbox. "The demands of my family forbid me offering you any pecuniary assistance, but—"
"I don't stand in need of it, sir. I have money enough to keep me till I get started in something."
"Really, I am very glad to hear it!"
And there is no doubt that Mr. Tarbox was sincere.
"I wonder how much money he has got?" thought Pliny. "Perhaps he'd lend me two dollars. I'll ask him, if I have a chance."
Pliny proposed to borrow, not because he needed the money, but because he liked to levy contributions upon any available party, with a very faint idea of repaying the same. The money would go to swell his deposit at the savings bank. It was very commendable, of course, to save his money, but not at the expense of others, as Pliny too frequently did.
"I have moved you out of the spare room," said Mrs. Tarbox, when our hero asked permission to retire, "and put you in the same room with Pliny. I suppose you won't mind?"
"Just as you please, Mrs. Tarbox," said Frank, though he would have preferred to have passed the night alone.
"Could you make it convenient to lend me two dollars?" asked Pliny, as they went up to bed together.
"Not just now," answered Frank. "When I get something to do I shall not need to be so careful of my money."
"One dollar would answer," persisted Pliny.
Without a word, Frank drew a dollar bill from his pocketbook and handed it to Pliny.
"Now," he thought, "I shall not feel under any obligations to the family."
"You're a good fellow, even if you are poor," said Pliny, in high good humor.
Frank was tired, and it was not long before all his anxieties for future were lost sight of in a sound and refreshing slumber.
The breakfast the next morning was very meager. It was no longer an object to gratify Frank's palate, now that he turned out to be a poor relation, and the family returned to their usual plain diet.
"So you are resolved to go to New York this morning," said Mr. Tarbox. "Of course it would gratify us to have you remain longer, but I appreciate your anxiety to go to work."
Frank was by no means deceived by this statement. He knew very well that Mr. Tarbox would be relieved by his departure, but of this knowledge he made no sign. He merely said that he thought it best to go.
He took leave of his hosts, and, purchasing a ticket at the railway station, found himself within an hour in New York. He had been there before, but it was not for a long time, and he had but a vague general idea of the city.
Frank made inquiries of a kindly man who owned a clean little store on one of the streets. The latter knew of places where Frank could board and lodge for five dollars a week or about that and directed Frank to them. They were all near University Place. He found the place without difficulty.
A slipshod servant answered the bell.
"Have you got any small rooms?" asked Frank.
"Yes," answered the girl. "Missus is out, but I'll show you a hall bedroom, if you like."
"I should like to see it."
Frank followed the girl upstairs.
He was not favorably impressed by the appearance of the interior. He did not so much mind its being shabby, but he was repelled by the evident lack of neatness.
The girl threw open the door of a small hall bedroom at the head of the stairs, but it looked so comfortless that he felt sure he should not like it. He thought it best, however, to inquire the price.
"Five dollars a week with board," answered the girl.
"I don't think it will suit me," said our hero.
"There's a larger room for seven dollars," said the servant.
"No. I think I will look elsewhere."
The next house was not much better, but the third was much neater and more attractive, and Frank agreed to take a room at five dollars per week.
It was a small hall bedroom, but it looked clean, and the lady who showed him about the house was very neat in her dress.
"When will you come?" asked the lady.
"Now," replied Frank, promptly.
"Would you mind paying the first week in advance?"
"Not at all. Here is the money."
And Frank drew a five-dollar bill from his portemonnaie.
"Thank you!" said the boarding-house keeper. "I have lost so much by boarders going away owing me money that I am obliged to ask gentlemen to pay in advance till I am well acquainted with them."
"That is quite right," said Frank. "What is your dinner hour?"
"Six o'clock. We have lunch at half-past twelve for the ladies, but if any gentleman happens to be at home at that time, he can go in."
Frank looked at his watch. It was only eleven o'clock and as so much of the day remained, he decided, as soon as he had unpacked his valise, to go downtown and look for a place without delay.
"I shall not be here at lunch to-day," he said. "You may expect me at dinner."
There was a small bureau in the room—a piece of furniture not often found in hall bedrooms.
Frank deposited the contents of the valise in the bureau drawers, and then went downstairs and out into the street.
It was a bright, pleasant day, and Broadway looked very lively. In spite of his being alone in a strange city, with uncertain prospects, Frank felt in good spirits.
Boys of his age usually like excitement and bustle, and Frank was quick to notice the shifting scenes of the great panorama.
"Here are thousands of people," he reflected, "all of whom make a living in some way. I don't see why I can't succeed as well as they."
Some of the objects he saw amused him.
In front of him walked an elderly man with a large placard strapped to his back, on which was the advertisement of a "Great Clothing Emporium."
"I don't think I should fancy that kind of employment," thought our hero.
As he was looking in at a shop window, a boy about his own age hailed him.
"I say, Johnny, what's the price of turnips?"
"Do you want to buy any?" asked Frank quietly.
"Well, I might. Have you got any with you?"
"I am sorry I can't supply you," said Frank, coolly. "Up our way we keep our cattle on turnips."
"You ain't so green, after all," said the boy, laughing good-naturedly.
"Thank you for the compliment!"
"I suppose I look countrylike," thought Frank, "but it won't last long. I shall get used to city ways."
Close by he saw in a window the sign:
"CASH BOY WANTED."
"CASH BOY WANTED."
Frank as not altogether certain about the duties of cash boys nor their rate of compensation, but he made up his mind not to lose sight of any chances, and accordingly stepped into the store.
It proved to be a large dry-goods store.
Near the entrance he met a tall man, with black whiskers.
"Do you want any cash boys?" inquired Frank.
"Are you inquiring for yourself?"
"Yes, sir."
"You are too large. Besides, you would not be satisfied with the wages?"
"How much do you pay, sir?"
"Two dollars a week."
"No; I don't think I should like to work for that," said Frank. "Are those cash boys?" he asked, pointing out some boys of apparently ten to twelve years, old, who were flitting about from desk to counter.
"Yes."
"I see they are much younger than I. Excuse the trouble I have given you!"
"None whatever," said the man, politely.
Frank left the store, and continued his walk down Broadway.
He began to feel a little serious. It was evident that the boys did not receive as large compensation for their services as he had supposed.
The problem promised to be a perplexing one, but Frank was by no means discouraged. In fact, if he had been, he would hardly have deserved to be the hero of my story.
Though Clinton Place is not very far uptown, it is a considerable walk from this point to the Astor House.
There was so much to see, however, that Frank did not become tired, nor was he sensible of the distance. He walked a little beyond the Astor House, and, crossing Broadway, turned down Fulton Street.
On the left side of the street his attention was drawn to a restaurant, and he was led by the prompting of appetite to enter.
The prices he found to be reasonable, and the tables were already pretty well filled with clerks and business men, who were partaking of their midday lunch.
Frank found that a plate of meat, with potato and a small supply of bread and butter, could be obtained for fifteen cents.
He afterward found restaurants where the same could be gotten for ten cents, but generally there was a deficiency in quality or quantity, and there was less neatness in serving the articles.
Seated at the same table with Frank were two young men, neither probably much over twenty. One appeared to be filling a regular clerkship.
"What are you doing now, Jack?" he asked of the other.
"I am in the tea business."
"How is that?"
"You know the Great Pekin Tea Company, of course?"
"Yes."
"Well, until I can get a place, I am selling for them."
"How do you make out?"
"I can't tell you, for I have only just commenced," said his friend.
"How do they pay—salary or commission?"
"They are to pay me a commission—twenty per cent on what I sell."
"That is a good commission."
"Yes; it is good enough, if I can make a fair amount of sales. There is a good deal of uncertainty about it of course. I would much rather have a place like yours."
Frank listened with interest. He wondered whether the Great Pekin Tea Company would employ him. If so, he would have a field for his energy, and every inducement to work hard, since his pay would depend on the amount of his sales. Besides, as an agent, he would occupy a comparatively independent position, and Frank was ambitious enough to enjoy this.
When the two men at his table left the restaurant, Frank followed them. At the door the two parted, the clerk going toward Broadway, while the agent walked in the direction of Nassau Street.
"I beg your pardon," said Frank, overtaking him; "but may I ask you a question?"
"Half a dozen, if you like," said the other, good-naturedly.
"I overheard what you said about the Great Pekin Tea Company. Do you think I could get a chance to sell for them?"
"Oh, yes; there'll be no trouble about that!"
"I am looking for something to do," continued Frank, "and I think I should like to try that."
"You'll find it uphill work," said the agent; "hard work and poor pay. I shall leave it as soon as I can get a regular position. Can't you get a place?"
"Perhaps I can. I haven't tried very hard yet," answered Frank; "but I find boys are paid so little that I can't make enough to live on. If I were a man it would be different."
"I don't believe you can make more than a boy's wages at selling tea," said Frank's new acquaintance, "but you might try it."
"Would you mind giving me a note to the company?" asked Frank.
"I will write a line on one of my business cards," said the agent. "That will be all you will need."
He drew out a card and wrote a line commending Frank to the attention of the company.
Frank thanked him, and sought the direction given.
Entering a large shop, not far from the Astor House, he looked about his inquiringly. Around him were chests of tea, inscribed with Chinese characters. A portly man addressed him.
"Well, my boy, what can I do for you?" he asked.
"Mr. Mason, one of your agents, has given me this card," said Frank. "He thinks you might be willing to employ me."
"We are ready to employ any competent person," said the gentleman; "but you seem very young."
"I am sixteen, sir."
"That is young. Have you had any experience as an agent?"
"No, sir?"
The man questioned him further and finally accepted him.
Frank was told that it would be well to take samples of different kinds of teas with their respective prices attached, and seek orders for them at private houses and groceries, noting down in a little book orders obtained. Small quantities he could himself deliver, and large quantities, should he be fortunate enough to obtain any, could be sent out from the store by their general delivery.
"What commission am I to get, sir?" inquired Frank.
"Twenty per cent on parcels sold to private houses and ten per cent when you sell to retail dealers. To the first you can charge a full price, but it is necessary to sell at lower rates to dealers."
"I understand, sir," said Frank.
"When do you want to begin?"
"To-morrow morning, sir. Where do you advise me to go?"
"New York has been pretty well canvassed, except perhaps the upper part, Harlem. It might be well to make a start in Brooklyn."
"Very well, sir. I will call to-morrow and get samples."
As Frank left the store, he reflected, with satisfaction:
"I have only been a few hours in New York, and I have gotten employment already."
This reflection raised his spirits, and disposed him to regard the future with a degree of confidence. He resolved to spend the rest of the afternoon in walking about in the lower part of the city, and acquiring a little familiarity with the streets, as this was a kind of knowledge he was likely to need.
He strolled down Broadway, admiring the massive and stately structures that lined the streets on either side. Very soon he came to Trinity Church, and, standing in front it, looked down Wall Street. He had heard so much of this street that he felt inclined to turn from Broadway and walk down its entire length.
As he sauntered along a man whom he met scrutinized him sharply, as if considering some plan. Apparently making up his mind, he stepped up to Frank, and, touching him on the shoulder, said:
"Boy, would you like a job?"
Now Frank, though he had engaged to work for the Great Pekin Tea Company was ready to accept any other proposal, and answered promptly:
"Yes, sir."
"That is right," said the man. "It is a mere trifle, but I am willing to pay you a dollar."
"What is it, sir?"
"Do you see that window?"
He pointed to a basement window, in which were exposed rolls of gold, currency and greenbacks of different denominations, and English sovereigns and French gold coins.
"I want you to do me a little errand in there," he said.
Frank was rather surprised that the man did not do his own errand, when the broker's office was so near, but he had no objection to earning a dollar and signified his willingness.
"What I want you to do," said his new acquaintance, "is to sell some government bonds for me."
"Very well, sir."
The man produced a large yellow envelope, already open.
"In this envelope," he said, "are two five-twenty governments for a hundred dollars each. Take them in and sell them, and bring the proceeds to me."
"All right, sir."
Frank took the envelope, and entered the office of Jones & Robinson, that being the style of the firm.
He advanced to the counter, and singling out a clerk, said:
"I want to sell these bonds."
The clerk took them and drew them out of the envelope. Then he figured a little on a slip of paper, and said:
"They are worth two hundred and twenty-five dollars and twenty-five cents."
"All right, sir."
"Will you take a check or currency?"
Frank hesitated.
"Perhaps I'd better ask the man I am getting them for."
"Very well. You can bring them here to-morrow."
"Oh, I will let you know in a minute! The man is just outside."
This answer immediately excited suspicion. Frank was too little versed in business ways to understand how singular it was for his principal not to transact his own business under the circumstances, but the brokers were necessarily keen, shrewd men.
"Wait a minute," said the clerk; "I will speak to Mr. Jones."
Mr. Jones came forward and addressed Frank.
"Are you acquainted with the man who gave you these bonds to sell?" he asked.
"No, sir. I met him in the street."
"Did he offer you any pay for selling them?"
"Yes, sir. He is going to give me a dollar."
"Will you go out and ask him to come in here a moment?"
Frank obeyed.
When his employer saw him coming, he asked, eagerly:
"Have you got the money?"
"No," answered Frank. "They asked me if I wanted a check or currency."
"Either currency or gold," answered the man, hastily. "Go back at once, and don't keep me waiting."
"They want to see you, sir."
"What for?" inquired the man, looking disturbed.
"I don't know."
"There is no need of my going in," said the man, angrily. "I paid you to sell the bonds. Now go back."
"He won't come," reported Frank. "He says I can attend to the business. He will take either gold or currency."
"No doubt," said Mr. Jones, significantly. "Thomas, go out with this boy, and tell the man that employed him that we do not purchase bonds unless we have a reasonable assurance that they belong to the person offering them. We will take the liberty of retaining them, giving him a receipt for them, and if we are satisfied, he can have his money to-morrow."
Robinson, who had been examining some newspaper slips, here came forward, and said:
"That is unnecessary. I find that these bonds are among those stolen from the house of Henry Percival, Madison Avenue, a week since. We must manage to delay the man while we notify the police."
Frank was very much surprised to learn that he was acting as agent for a bond robber, and was fearful that he might himself be regarded with suspicion; but he need not have troubled himself on this score. Wall Street men are good judges of human nature, and it was at once concluded in the office that Frank was the dupe of a designing knave.
A boy was dispatched to the nearest police office, and Frank was directed to tell his principal that he would not long be delayed.
Naturally, however, the man outside had become suspicious.
"I can't wait," he said. "Meet me on the steps of the Astor House at five o'clock with the money. I am obliged to hurry away now to a business appointment."
Frank could think of no other pretext for delaying him, and was forced to see him hurry away.
He hastened back to the office and gave the alarm.
"He has taken fright," said Robinson. "I fear we have lost him. Where did he go?"
Frank, however, was too ignorant of city streets to give any accurate information.
The consequence was that when the policeman appeared on the scene, there was no occasion for his services.
"At any rate," said the broker, "we have secured a little of the plunder. What is your name and address my boy? We may wish to communicate with you."
Frank gave his name, and added the directions of his boarding house.
"Shall I meet the man at the Astor House?" he inquired, as he was leaving the office.
"To be sure!" said Mr. Jones. "I came near forgetting that. Officer, will you be on hand at the time?"
"Better employ a detective, sir, as my uniform would keep the thief at a distance. I don't think he'll appear, at any rate."
"I do," said the broker. "He won't give up the money while he thinks there is a chance of securing it."
At the hour named, Frank repaired to the Astor House, and took a position on the steps.
He looked about him for his street acquaintance, but could see no one who bore any resemblance to him.
Finally, a man dressed in a gray suit with a pair of green glasses, walked carelessly up to our hero and said, in a low voice:
"Have you got the money?"
Frank looked at him in surprise.
This man had thick, black whiskers, while the man who had employed him had none at all, so far as he could remember. Besides, the green glasses altered him considerably.
To make sure that he was not deceived he inquired:
"What money?"
"You know very well," said the man, impatiently. "You are the boy whom I employed to sell some bonds this morning."
"You don't look like the same man," said Frank.
"Because of my glasses. I have to wear them at times on account of the weakness of my eyes."
While he was speaking, a quiet-looking man approached and listened to the conversation.
"Then," said Frank, "you can tell me how many bonds you handed me."
"They were two five-twenty government bonds of a hundred dollars each."
"Correct, sir."
"Then hand me the money and be quick about it, for I have no time to waste! You shall have the dollar I promised you."
But here the quiet-looking man took a part in the conversation. Passing his arm through that of the man with the green glasses, he said:
"I will trouble you to come with me."
"How dare you touch me? Do you mean to insult me?" demanded the other, struggling with captor.
"I will make all clear in due time. You must come with me and explain how you came in possession of the bonds you gave this boy."
"They were put in my hands by an acquaintance. If there is anything wrong, I am not to blame."
"In that case no harm will come to you; but now you must come along."
After his experience, Frank walked to his boarding place. He was quite ready for six o'clock.
When he entered the dining room, his hostess introduced him to all.
A young man sat next to him and entered into conversation.
"What do you do, Mr. Courtney?"
"I have taken an agency to sell tea for the Great Pekin Tea Company. I am to begin to-morrow."
"I am afraid you won't like it. A friend of mine tried it once and came near starving."
This was not encouraging, but Frank was not going to despair before he had fairly begun his work.
"I find that boys receive such small wages," Frank continued, "that I preferred to try an agency."
"Quite true," said Mr. Preston, condescendingly. "When I started I was paid a paltry sum; now I am not paid what I am worth. Still, twenty-five dollars a week is fair."
"Quite fair," responded Frank, who could not, of course, know that Mr. Preston did not receive one-half of this sum, though he chose to give that impression.
After dinner, Preston was obliged to go back to the store where he was employed. By invitation, Frank walked with him.
Turning into Sixth Avenue they passed a saloon.
"Won't you have something to drink, Courtney?" said Preston.
"No, thank you, I never drink," answered Frank.
"It will brace you up, and make you feel jolly. Better come in!"
"I don't need bracing up," answered Frank, quietly.
"Well, perhaps you are right," said Mr. Peter Preston. "I don't indulge very often, but sometimes I feel like it."
Some boys might have yielded to the temptation, but Frank had determined that he would abstain from liquor, and kept his resolution. A boy who comes to the city is exposed at every step to this peril, and needs a firm will to withstand it. It is the fruitful source of crime and misery, and does more to fill our prisons than any other cause.
"This is my store," said Preston, as he pointed to a modest-looking shop on the west side of the avenue. "I wish I could keep you company longer, but business before pleasure, you know."
Before returning to his boarding house, Frank sat down for a short time in Washington Park, and reviewed his plans and prospects. He could not tell how he would succeed in his tea agency; but if that failed, he was resolved to try something else.
He didn't feel homesick, for since his mother's death he had no longer any home ties. Young as he was, he felt that one part of his life was at an end, and that a new life and a new career were before him.
The next morning, at breakfast, one of the gentlemen, who had been running his eyes over the morning paper, said, suddenly:
"Ah! I see they have caught one of the gang who robbed the house of Mr. Percival, on Madison Avenue, a week ago."
"Read the paragraph, Mr. Smith," said one of the boarders.
Mr. Smith read as follows:
"About noon yesterday a boy entered the banking house of Jones & Robinson, in Wall Street, and offered for sale two one-hundred-dollar government bonds. On inquiry, he said that the bonds belonged to a man in the street, whom he had never before met, and who had offered him a dollar to sell them. This naturally excited suspicion, and a policeman was sent for. Before he could arrive the man had hastily departed, requesting the boy to meet him at a specified hour in front of the Astor House and hand him the money. He came to the rendezvous, but in disguise, and, while talking to the boy, was arrested. It is understood that he has agreed to turn State's evidence, and probably the entire sum stolen, amounting to several thousand dollars, will be recovered."
Frank listened to this paragraph with interest. He was glad that his name was not mentioned in the account, as he didn't care for such publicity. He ventured to ask a question.
"Is Mr. Percival a rich man?" he asked.
"Very rich," answered Mr. Smith. "He is not now in the city, but is expected home from Europe in three or four weeks. His house was left in charge of an old servant—a coachman—and his wife; but the burglars proved too much for them."
"I am glad they are caught," said Mrs. Fletcher. "It makes my blood run cold to think of having the houses entered at night by burglars."
"Preston," said Mr. Smith, jokingly, "I hope you have your bonds locked securely up."
"I don't believe the sharpest burglar can find them," said Preston. "I only wish I could get hold of them myself."
"The boy who helped to capture the burglar ought to be well rewarded," said one of the boarders.
"Don't you wish it had been you, Courtney?" said Mr. Preston.
"It was," answered Frank, quietly.
There was a great sensation upon this announcement. All eyes were turned upon our hero—most, it must be admitted, with an expression of incredulity.
"Come, now, you are joking!" said Preston. "You don't really mean it?"
"I do mean it," assured Frank.
"Tell us all about it," said Mrs. Fletcher, who had her share of curiosity. "I didn't suppose we had such a hero in our house."
"It didn't require much heroism," said Frank, smiling.
"Tell us all about it, at any rate."
Frank told the story as simply as he could, much to the satisfaction of the company.
"You'll come in for a handsome reward, when Mr. Percival gets home," suggested Mr. Smith.
"I don't expect anything," said Frank. "I shall be satisfied if I get the dollar which was promised me. I haven't received that yet."
"I wish I were in your shoes—that's all I've got to say," said Preston, nodding vigorously. "Will you sell out for five dollars?"
"Cash down?" asked Frank, smiling.
"Well, I'll give you my note at thirty days," said the Sixth Avenue salesman, who seldom kept five dollars in advance of his liabilities.
"I won't sell what I haven't got," said Frank. "Probably I shall hear nothing from Mr. Percival."
After breakfast Frank went downtown and sought the store of the Great Pekin Company.
After half an hour's delay—for there were others in advance of him—he was fitted out with samples and started for Brooklyn.
It was his first visit to that city, but he had received some directions which made his expedition less embarrassing.
At the ferry he took a Flatbush Avenue car, and rode up Fulton Street, and past the City Hall, up Fulton Avenue, for nearly a mile.
Here were interesting streets, lined with comfortable houses—for Frank had made up his mind first to try private houses. He had with him a few pound parcels of tea, which he thought he could perhaps succeed in disposing of at such places.
He selected a house at random, and rang the bell.
A servant answered the ring.
Frank felt rather embarrassed, but there was no time to hesitate.
"I have some samples of tea with me," he began, "of excellent quality and at reasonable prices."
"It's no use," said the girl, abruptly. "We never buy of peddlers," and she closed the door in his face.
"Not a very good beginning," thought Frank, rather mortified. "So I am a peddler," he said to himself, and he called to mind the agents and peddlers who in past years had called at the Cedars.
With some compunction, he remembered that he had regarded them with some contempt as traveling nuisances. Now he had entered the ranks of this despised class, and he began to see that they might be perfectly respectable, and were estimable persons, animated by a praiseworthy desire to make an honest living.
Thus thinking, he called at another door.
It was opened, not by a servant, but by an elderly maiden lady, who had rather a weakness for bargains.
"I've got some nice tea," said Frank, "which I should like to sell you. It is put up by the Great Pekin Company."
"Are you sure it's nice?" asked the elderly lady. "We've been getting ours at the grocery store on the avenue, and the last wasn't very good."
"You'd better try a pound of ours," said Frank.
"I don't know but I will," said the lady. "How much do you charge?"
"I have some at fifty cents, some at sixty and some at seventy."
"I guess I'll take the sixty."
Frank had a pound parcel ready, which he delivered to her, and received his money.
"Seems to me you are pretty young for a peddler," said the lady, regarding Frank with curiosity.
"Yes, ma'am."
"How old be you?"
"Sixteen."
"Been long in the business?"
"No, ma'am; I've only just commenced."
"You don't say so! Do you make much money at it?"
"I haven't made much yet. I should be glad to supply you with some more tea when this is gone."
"Well, you can call if you are round this way. If I like it, I will try you again."
Frank's spirits rose.
His profits on the pound of tea were twelve cents. This was not much, certainly, but it was a beginning.
At the next three houses he sold nothing, being rather rudely rebuffed at one. At the fourth house, the servant called her mistress, a kind, motherly-looking woman, who seemed to regard Frank with more interest than his merchandise.
"I hope you are succeeding well," she said, kindly.
"This is my first day," said Frank, "and I have made one sale."
"I have a son who is an agent like you, but he didn't begin so young. He is now traveling in the West."
"What is he selling?" asked Frank, with interest.
"Dry goods. He travels for a wholesale house in New York."
"I suppose he is a young man."
"Yes; he is twenty-five, but he began at nineteen in a small way. He sometimes got quite discouraged at first. That is why I feel interested in any who are passing through the same experience."
These pleasant words cheered Frank. Only at the nearest house he had been called a tramp, but here he found that he was regarded with consideration.
"It is rather uphill work," said Frank.
"And you seem very young."
"I am sixteen."
"Are you entirely dependent on what you earn?" asked the lady, sympathizingly.
"Not entirely," answered the young merchant, "but I hope to make a living in this or some other way. Can I sell you any?" he asked, hopefully.
"I believe we have some on hand. Still tea will always keep, and I would like to help you along."
The kind-hearted lady took three pounds—two at sixty cents and one at seventy. This gave Frank a profit thirty-eight cents and put him in good spirits.
He worked his way back to the avenue on the other side of the street, and coming to a grocery store, entered.
It occurred to him that he would try to sell some at wholesale.
Frank was so young that the dealer did not suppose him to be an agent, and asked what he would like to buy.
"I came to sell, not to buy," said Frank.
"What are you dealing in?" asked the grocer.
"I have several samples of tea," said our hero. "If you will give me an order, I will have it sent to you to-morrow."
The grocer found, upon examination, that his stock was getting low, and gave Frank an order, but he was obliged to sell below the regular price, and only cleared three cents a pound. Still, on a sale of twenty-five pounds, this gave him seventy-five cents, which was very encouraging.
Adding up his profits, thus far, Frank found that his commission amounted to a dollar and a quarter, which exceeded his anticipations.
He continued his calls, but sold only one pound besides, at fifty cents, netting him ten cents more.