Unsatisfied hunger is always a serious discomfort. What it was to a young, healthy boy like Rupert, who had been working hard for several hours, may be imagined.
Even if there had been a prospect of his dining in two or three hours, it would have been inconvenient, but he could have endured it. As it was, he did not know when he could satisfy his appetite, if at all.
He discovered in his pockets some silver change which Ben hadn't taken, but that could do him no good in the Colorado wilderness.
Rupert was in general sanguine and light-hearted. But it must be owned that he felt terribly depressed about this time. He had his gun with him, but even if he shouldsucceed in shooting anything, how could he cook it? He had not even a match with which to light a fire.
Was he destined to starve in this out of the way region? he asked himself. A hundred miles off he had a rich friend. In New York he owned two valuable lots and had money in the bank besides, but neither of these could do him any good now.
The French speak of an uncomfortable quarter of an hour. Rupert had two hours at least that could be described in this way. All this while, faint as he was and tired as his exertions on an empty stomach had made him, he still paddled on. At last, to his great joy, there came light in the darkness. As the raft turned a corner in the windings of the river he saw on the bank, curiously regarding him, a tall, thin, dark-complexioned girl, in a calico dress too short for her.
A new hope was born in Rupert's heart? and he stopped paddling.
"Do you live around here?" he asked.
"Yes," answered the girl.
"Could I buy some food at your house?"
"Don't know. I reckon so."
"Then I'll stop, and you can show me the way to your house."
"Where did you come from?"
"From below—about ten miles down the river."
"Is that where you live?"
"No. I live in New York."
"Where is that? Is it in Colorado?"
"Didn't you ever hear of New York?" asked Rupert, in genuine surprise at the ignorance of his new acquaintance.
"No."
"It's a large city."
The girl seemed to take very little interest in the information he gave her.
"Did you always live here?" asked Rupert, becoming himself the questioner.
"Reckon so."
By this time Rupert had brought the raft to shore and tied it to a stump. He obtained a nearer view of the girl, but did not find her attractive.
She was tall, thin, and had a sallow complexion. Her dress hung straight down.Moreover, it was not clean. The girl eyed him attentively, and didn't seem in the least bashful. She seemed to arrive at a decision in regard to him.
"Say, you're good-lookin'," she said, in a matter-of-fact tone.
"Do you think so?" returned Rupert, blushing.
"Yes. How old be you?"
"Seventeen."
"I'm fourteen. If you lived round here I'd take you for my beau."
"But I don't live round here," said Rupert, with an air of relief. "What is your name?" he asked, with a sudden thought.
"Sal. That's what mam calls me. What's yours?"
"Rupert."
"That's a mighty cur'us name. Never heard it afore."
"I don't think it is a common name."
"You jest come along, if you want some dinner. You said you'd pay for it, didn't you?"
"Yes."
"Then I guess mam will give you some."
"Do you live far off?" asked Rupert, anxiously.
"No. Jest in the woods a little way."
Rupert followed the girl for about a quarter of a mile. Then, in a little clearing, he saw a rude cabin—just such a house as he fancied Sal would live in.
"That's our house, and there's mam at the door," said his young guide.
A tall, thin woman, between whom and Sal there was considerable resemblance, not only in appearance but in dress, stood in the doorway, shading her eyes with her hand as she looked down the path.
"She's lookin' for me," explained Sal, with a grin.
"Here you, Sal!" called her mother. "Where've you been gallivantin' to?"
Then she stopped short, for she caught sight of Rupert.
"Who've you got with you?" she asked, abruptly.
"A boy," answered Sal. "Ain't he nice lookin'?"
Rupert blushed again, as most of my boy readers would probably have done under like circumstances.
"No matter how he looks," said the mother, sharply. "What does he want here?"
"He wants somethin' to eat, and he's got money to pay for it," answered Sal.
"I am very hungry, madam," said Rupert, taking off his hat. "I shall consider it a great favor if you will give me some dinner."
"I reckon I kin scare up something," said the woman, more amiably. "Jest come in."
Rupert entered the cabin. It was rudely and scantily furnished, but doubtless the occupants enjoyed it as much as a New York millionaire enjoys his elegant mansion on Fifth Avenue. There was a fire in the cooking-stove, and in a pantry Rupert noticed some cold remnants of the noonday meal.
"Sit down," said the woman. "I'll scare you up something in a jiffy."
"I'll sit down outside, if you don't mind," answered Rupert.
He sat down on a settee on one side of the door. Soon the odor of some meat whichwas being fried assailed his nostrils, and gave him the keenest delight.
In about twenty minutes Sal called him in, and he was glad to accept her rather unceremonious invitation.
On the table was a dish of meat. He didn't know what kind it was, but it smelled good. On another plate was some corn bread, but no butter was provided.
"We ain't got no whiskey," said the woman. "We're sort o' run out, but I can give you some tea."
"That will do just as well, madam."
Rupert might have said that it would do better, but he saw that the family were not prohibitionists and might take offense if he spoke against the use of whiskey.
Rupert had seldom enjoyed a meal more than the one he sat down to in that rude cabin.
"What kind of meat is this?" he asked.
"Bear meat. Didn't you ever eat any?"
"No, madam."
"We reckon it's good. My man killed the bear."
"It is excellent," said Rupert, and he really meant what he said.
"I'm glad you like it."
Rupert ate till he was ashamed. He had not asked the price of the meal in advance, for he was fully resolved to eat it, even if it took every cent he had left to pay for it. But when at last he laid down his knife and fork he summoned courage to ask how much he must pay.
"I reckon a quarter'll do," said the woman.
Rupert breathed a sigh of relief. It not only came within his means, but he would have fifty cents left after paying.
Then the woman began to ask questions.
"Where mought you be goin'?" she asked.
Rupert mentioned his destination.
"How far away is that?"
"Nearly a hundred miles."
"Are you travelin' alone?"
"I had a man with me till this morning."
"Where is he now?"
"He got up early, robbed me of all my money and ran off, taking the boat with him," Rupert answered in indignant tones.
"If he took all your money, how are you goin' to pay for your dinner?" asked the woman, frowning.
"I have a little money left in silver," said Rupert, producing the quarter.
"How are you goin' to get back?"
"I don't know. I have no money, and only a raft."
Then an idea came to him.
"If I could find a man who would go back with me, I would pay him well."
"But you have no money."
"Mr. Packard, of Red Gulch, is my friend. He is a rich man and he would pay for me."
"Do you mean Giles Packard?"
"Yes."
"I know about him. He is rich. Is he your friend?"
"Yes."
Rupert followed up his advantage.
"If I could find a man who would take me to him I would promise him fifty dollars—and this gun."
The woman's eyes showed her interest.She was fond of money, and fifty dollars seemed to her a large sum.
"I reckon my man would go along with you," she said slowly. "The fifty dollars would be sure?"
"Yes, and if I was satisfied with him, I would give him ten dollars more."
"Mam," said Sal, "you'd better say yes. We'll all be rich if dad gets sixty dollars."
"When will your husband be home?" asked Rupert, becoming hopeful.
"I reckon he'll be home directly—if you kin wait."
"Oh, yes, I can wait. Has he got a boat?"
"He has a canoe."
"That will do just as well."
"And will you give me the raft?" asked Sal. "You won't want it."
"Yes, you shall have the raft."
Sal was so delighted that she threw her arms round Rupert's neck and kissed him, much to his confusion.
"Quit that, you Sal. Ain't you got nomanners?" said her mother, sharply. "There's your dad comin' now."
Rupert raised his flushed face, and was indescribably astonished when a tall Indian entered the cabin.
"Is that your husband?" asked Rupert, in a tone that betrayed his surprise.
"Yes. What yer gawkin' at? He's enough sight better'n my first husband, who was a white man. Isn't he, Sal?"
"You bet, mam!"
The Indian, who had an air of natural dignity, seemed pleased with their tributes to his excellence.
"Yes," continued Sal's mother, "he's my man now. John, this boy wants you to take him to Giles Packard's ranch."
"It's a long way," said the Indian, slowly.
"Yes, I know that," answered Rupert, "but I am willing to pay you. That is, I haven't money with me, but Mr. Packard will pay you fifty dollars, and I will give you my gun besides."
The Indian seemed most impressed with the last part of the offer. He held out the gun and examined it closely. Then a look of satisfaction overspread his face, and he said "Good."
"He seems straight, though he's only a boy," remarked the woman. "You'd better go. Fifty dollars is a good deal of money."
"Gun good," said the Indian, sententiously.
"Yes, but the money is better."
"When you want to go?" asked John.
"You'd better wait till to-morrow morning," put in the woman. "I'll bake up some bread and fry some bear steak for you to carry."
"That will suit me if you will give me a place to sleep and some supper," said Rupert.
This was readily agreed to.
One of those best pleased with this arrangement was Sal. She seemed so impressed with Rupert that the latter was afraid she would kiss him again, but fortunately she refrained.
She made up her mind, however, to enjoy the boy's companionship, and challenged himto a trial of speed. Rupert was almost ashamed to compete with a girl, but he found that Sal was a rival by no means to be despised. She kept up well with him in a quarter mile run, and in a running jump she beat him once out of three times.
"You jump very well—for a girl," said Rupert.
"You're taller'n I be, or I'd beat you. Besides, you're older."
"And your mother's older than you. Can she beat you?"
"I'd jump mam out of her boots," said Sal, confidently. "Want to try, mam?"
"Try what?"
"Jumpin'."
"Oh, quit yer foolin'. A nice sight I'd be, jumpin'. Your dad will jump with you."
"Yes," said John, smiling gravely.
"Oh, he can beat me, of course."
"Won't you jump, John?" asked Rupert, thinking the Indian looked desirous of a trial.
"Yes," answered John.
Like most of his race, he was supple andwell trained in all athletic exercises. He jumped three feet farther than Rupert, though the white boy plumed himself on his agility.
Later Rupert and Sal took a trip down the river on the raft. Sal desired to do the paddling, and Rupert was obliged to confess that she understood the art of paddling a raft better than he.
"You gave it to me, didn't you?" she said.
"Yes, Sal, it is yours."
The girl looked pleased.
"I will go out on it a good deal," she said. "Dad doesn't like me to use his canoe."
"Where does he keep his canoe?"
"Up the river a way. Shall I show you?"
"Yes, if you will."
She kept on paddling till they reached a secluded part of the stream, where there was a circular indentation in the bank. Here was the Indian's canoe. It was higher than the skiff in which Rupert had traveled with Ben Boone, and though as long, was narrower.
"It is a beautiful canoe!" said Rupert, admiringly.
"Isn't it? Dad's proud of it."
"How long has he been married to your mother?"
"'Bout three years."
"You don't mind having an Indian for a father?" asked Rupert, feeling that he might be on delicate ground.
"No, John's a good man. He never drinks, as my own father did. He's good to mam. Then he is a good hunter, and brings us plenty of bear's meat."
"Would you be willing to marry an Indian yourself?"
"No, I'd rather marry you," was Sal's disconcerting reply.
"I am not old enough to be married," said Rupert, blushing.
"You will be some day."
"Yes. I shall be some day—if I live."
"Then will you come and marry me?"
This was a leap year proposal with a vengeance. Rupert was hardly prepared with an answer. He replied diplomatically, "I can't tell yet. I must ask my mother."
"Mam would be willing I should marryyou," said Sal. "Where does your mother live?"
"Near New York."
"Won't you ask her?"
"Yes," answered Rupert; "but perhaps you will see some one else you will like better."
"No, I shan't," said Sal, positively. "You are awful handsome."
"Am I?" said Rupert, in rather an embarrassed tone.
"Yes, you've got such nice red cheeks."
Rupert scanned her critically, but he was unable to return the compliment. Her face was thin and sallow, and the only feature that was passable was her bright black eyes.
The next morning, when Rupert was ready to start, Sal showed an inclination to kiss him again, but he hurried off with the Indian, and escaped this affectionate demonstration.
"You'll come back some time?" said Sal, anxiously, as she looked after him.
"Yes, some day."
Rupert hoped that before he saw Sal again she would have secured a husband in her own station in life.
Rupert found the Indian a very satisfactory companion. Compared to Ben he was silent and reserved, but he was willing to answer questions, and the young traveler managed to extract considerable information from him.
There was no unnecessary delay. Rupert had no desire to remain longer in the wilderness. So on the evening of the third day he reached Red Gulch and sought out his friend Giles Packard.
The cattleman eyed his companion with surprise.
"Where have you left Ben?" he said.
"He left me," answered Rupert, and he told the story of Ben Boone's treachery.
Giles Packard was very angry.
"The rascal!" he said. "I knew he was lazy and shiftless, but I didn't think he was a villain. If I could get hold of him he'd find it worse than being in a bear's clutches. Have you any idea where he went?"
"No; I thought he might have come home."
"He wouldn't dare to come home without you."
"I've got it!" exclaimed Rupert, suddenly.
"What is it?"
"I understand now. He's on his way to New York."
"What do you mean?"
"He asked a great deal about New York, and said he would go there if he only had money enough. I expect he is using my money for traveling expenses."
"Where did you pick up your Indian friend?"
Rupert told of the compact he had made with the Indian, and asked Mr. Packard to lend him money enough to keep it.
"Certainly, lad, and I'd do a great deal more for you, if necessary."
John was paid his money, and received the gun besides as a free gift. With them he started for home happy and proud.
Rupert might have sent his love to Sal, but he refrained.
"By the way, Rupert," said Giles Packard, "I have two letters for you."
Rupert opened them hastily. The first was from his mother. The important part ran thus:
"Mr. Strathmore is sick with pneumonia, and there is little hope of his living. Of course this will make it necessary for me and Grace to seek a new home. I wish we might all be together again. I have been contented, because I knew you were doing well, but I should be happier to have you with me. Will you be back soon? I will make no arrangements till you return."
"Mr. Strathmore is sick with pneumonia, and there is little hope of his living. Of course this will make it necessary for me and Grace to seek a new home. I wish we might all be together again. I have been contented, because I knew you were doing well, but I should be happier to have you with me. Will you be back soon? I will make no arrangements till you return."
The second letter was from Leslie Waters. He wrote:
"Congratulate me, Rupert! I have at last realized my ambition and am to become an actor. I have been engaged to play a part in the comedy of 'Fireflies.' You won't get any idea of the piece from the title. My part is a very good one. I am to represent a Broadway swell. I can't give you any idea of the plot, but I hope some time you may be able to see it played. Of course I have resigned my position as a bell-boy. We start on the road on Monday, opening at Albany, and going thence to Buffalo. I will send you my route as soon as I can. Answer this to Cleveland, Ohio."
"Congratulate me, Rupert! I have at last realized my ambition and am to become an actor. I have been engaged to play a part in the comedy of 'Fireflies.' You won't get any idea of the piece from the title. My part is a very good one. I am to represent a Broadway swell. I can't give you any idea of the plot, but I hope some time you may be able to see it played. Of course I have resigned my position as a bell-boy. We start on the road on Monday, opening at Albany, and going thence to Buffalo. I will send you my route as soon as I can. Answer this to Cleveland, Ohio."
"I suppose Leslie is happy," thought Rupert. "I hope he will succeed."
"I trust your letters contain good news," said Giles Packard.
"One contains bad news. My mother is about to lose her home, and I am afraid I must start at once for New York."
"Wait till to-morrow, Rupert, and I will go with you. I have a capable superintendent who will take my place, and a journey will do me good."
"I shall be delighted to have your company, Mr. Packard."
Giles Packard looked pleased, for the longer he knew Rupert the better he liked him.
At the last moment Giles Packard decided to take his uncle, John Plympton, with him, finding that the old man was reluctant to be left alone.
"I shall stop on the way at Rochester and see if I can collect Uncle John's note," he said. "Perhaps I may be more successful than he."
"If you don't mind, Mr. Packard," said Rupert, "I will go on at once to New York, as I feel anxious about my mother."
"Very well. Go to the Somerset Hotel, and put up as a guest. I shall follow you soon."
Leaving Rupert to pursue his journey, we will detail the experiences of Giles and his uncle at Rochester.
"We will put up at a cheap hotel, UncleJohn," he said. "I don't want Eben to suspect that I am well off."
"He wouldn't judge so from your dress, Giles," remarked the old man, with a humorous glance at his nephew's well-worn suit.
"That is true, Uncle John. I don't look very much like a dude, I admit. However, I will go to a first-class tailor in New York and get myself rigged out. While I am about it I will get a new suit for you."
"I need it badly enough, Giles, but having given all my money to Eben Jackson, I did not feel able to buy new clothes."
"You won't have occasion to complain of being without money long."
"Thank you, Giles. It has been a great relief to me, your purchasing the note, but I don't want you to lose money."
"I don't intend to. Eben Jackson may swindle you. He will find it harder to get the advantage of me."
Eben Jackson was standing at the desk in his store when Giles and John Plympton entered. Eben took no particular notice of the middle-aged and rather rough-lookingstranger, whom he did not recognize, but frowned perceptibly when he saw John Plympton.
"You here, Uncle John?" he said, roughly.
"Yes," answered the old man, meekly.
"Where have you been?"
"I went to Chicago."
"Didn't you find anything to do there?"
"No."
"Probably you didn't try very hard."
"It wasn't that. They all said I was too old. Chicago is a city of young men."
"Yes, you have seen your best days," said his nephew, unfeelingly.
"And I suppose I ought not to cumber the ground. Is that what you mean, Eben?"
"Well, not exactly, but you can't expect that you can find employment as you used to do."
"Isn't that pretty hard? I am only sixty-five."
"That's old for a man seeking employment."
"What will you do when you are sixty-five?"
"It will be different with me. I have a business of my own."
"I hope you'll be better off than I am at that age."
"I shall. You never had much business capacity."
"I've been thinking, Eben, I'd better take that three thousand dollars of mine and buy an annuity. At my age I ought to get enough to take care of me economically."
"I don't see how you're going to do that. I've got your money."
"True, but I should like to have it back."
"You can't have it at present. It would be inconvenient for me to take it from my business."
"But, Eben, I need it. At any rate you can let me have the interest that has already accrued."
"I'll see about it."
"But I want money at once."
"Then you can't get it," said the nephew, rudely. "Where are you staying?"
John Plympton mentioned the name of the hotel.
Eben Jackson turned up his nose. This was distinctly a third-class house, charging one dollar and a quarter a day.
"You'd better go to a cheap boarding-house. You needn't expect me to pay your hotel bill."
"I have a right to expect you will give me enough of my own money to pay the bill."
"I won't encourage you in any such ridiculous extravagance, Uncle John."
"Perhaps you think it is extravagant in me to eat at all."
"I think it is extravagant to pay a dollar and a quarter a day for board. Who is that man with you?"
On hearing this, Giles Packard came forward.
"You ought to know me, Eben," he said.
Eben Jackson took stock of the cattleman's shabby clothes, and answered, coldly, "You have the advantage of me, sir."
"Then you don't remember your cousin, Giles Packard?"
"Are you Giles Packard? I didn't know but you were dead."
"No, thank you, not just yet."
"Where have you been living?"
"In Colorado."
"Have you met with any success? What business have you followed?"
"I have been in the cattle business."
"Oh, a cowboy?" sneered Eben.
"If you choose to call me so."
"Why didn't you stay in Colorado? Why have you come East?"
"I thought I should enjoy a vacation."
"But traveling costs money."
"So it does. Uncle John tells me you have three thousand dollars of his."
Eben Jackson frowned.
"Yes," he said, "I am taking care of his money for him."
"As he can't find employment, he will need to have it returned."
"That can't be done. He has my note for it."
"Yes. I have seen the note. I observe that it is made out 'On demand.'"
"Well?"
"That means that he can call for it at any time."
"I shall pay it when I get ready," said Eben, haughtily.
"It may be wise for you to get ready very soon."
"Oh, you threaten, do you? That is all the good it will do you."
To Eben Jackson's surprise Giles Packard took the matter very coolly. He even smiled.
"I suspect you will change your mind," he said.
"I understand your drift. You want to get hold of Uncle John's money yourself."
"Perhaps so. Uncle John, are you willing that I should take charge of your money?"
"Yes, Giles."
"Ah, a very nice conspiracy. Uncle John, you are a fool."
"Why?" asked the old man, mildly.
"This man has made a failure of his life, and is as poor as poverty, judging from his appearance. He has got up a nice scheme for depriving you of your money. If he got hold of it you would never see a cent of it. He is evidently an adventurer."
"Then you won't give me my money?"
"No. I shall keep it in your own interest. Why, if you gave it to him you would be a pauper in less than a year."
Giles Packard did not seem in the least irritated by his cousin's uncomplimentary remarks.
Turning to John Plympton, he said: "I think we may as well go, Uncle John."
"I am glad you realize that," observed Jackson. "Before you go, let me say that your scheme has utterly failed."
"My scheme of getting you to return Uncle John his money?"
"Your plan of getting his money into your own possession."
"Call it as you like. You will hear from us very soon."
"Is that meant as a threat?"
"Well, perhaps so."
"Go ahead. Take what measures you choose. It is immaterial to me."
"What did I tell you, Giles?" said John Plympton, as they left the store.
"Eben Jackson is meaner than I supposed. We will give him a little surprise."
"Before night Eben Jackson received the following letter from the leading lawyer in Rochester:
"Sir—"My client, Mr. Giles Packard, has placed in my hands for collection a demand note for three thousand dollars, signed by yourself, transferred to him by John Plympton. Will you arrange to pay it? If not, I am instructed by my client to sue."Yours respectfully,"Edward Nettleton, Att'y."
"Sir—
"My client, Mr. Giles Packard, has placed in my hands for collection a demand note for three thousand dollars, signed by yourself, transferred to him by John Plympton. Will you arrange to pay it? If not, I am instructed by my client to sue.
"Yours respectfully,"Edward Nettleton, Att'y."
This was like a bomb in the camp of the enemy. Mr. Nettleton was a sharp and successful lawyer, and to be feared. He was steep in his charges, and Eben felt that his cousin was a fool to employ so high-priced an attorney.
He lost no time in seeking the humble hotel where his uncle and cousin were domiciled.
"What does all this mean?" he demanded, angrily.
"What do you refer to?"
"To Mr. Nettleton's letter."
"It means that I am going to have my uncle's money," said Giles, firmly.
"Your lawyer will charge you an immense fee. Better let the matter drop."
"Eben Jackson, I'll make you pay that money if it costs me five thousand dollars for expenses."
"Ridiculous! Why, you are almost a pauper."
"I hope not. When I left Colorado I was worth nearly a hundred thousand dollars. I don't think I have lost any money since."
"Is this true?" gasped Jackson.
"It is. You thought me poor, because I was poorly dressed. You were mistaken. I am what is called a rich man. I am unmarried, but after the way you have treated me, you can judge what chances you have of being remembered in my will."
"It is all a mistake, Cousin Giles," said Eben, in a conciliatory tone. "I'll pay the money, and I hope you and Uncle John will do me the favor of staying at my house while you are in Rochester."
Giles Packard smiled grimly.
"We shall start for New York to-morrow," he said, "and it won't be advisable for us toleave the hotel. I shall leave the note in Mr. Nettleton's hands, and I will give you a month in which to pay it."
"Thank you. Won't you call at the house? Mary will be glad to see you, and I want to show you the children."
"Yes, we will call."
Giles Packard smiled when his cousin left the hotel.
"Eben seems to have changed," he said. "I think we shan't have any more trouble with him."
When Rupert entered the Somerset Hotel on his return from the West he received a cordial welcome from Mr. Malcolm, the clerk.
"I hope you have had a pleasant journey," he said.
"Very pleasant, on the whole."
"And do you want your old place again?"
"No," answered Rupert. "I hope to go into some other line of business."
"I'm glad for one reason. I have taken a very good boy in your place—David Williams—and I would not like to discharge him."
"I hear Leslie has left you also."
"Yes. He has gone on the stage, I believe," said the clerk, smiling. "Have you any plans in that direction?"
"No; I couldn't make as much as the wages you were paying me."
"I doubt if Leslie will find the change to his advantage."
"Whom have you in his place?"
"A boy named Bernard Benton. He is also a good boy. By the way, a letter came for you yesterday. Here it is."
Rupert supposed the letter might be from his mother, but on reading the address he found that it was in a business hand. He opened the envelope and read as follows.
"Mr. Rupert Rollins—"Dear Sir: I learn that you are the owner of two lots on One Hundred and Twenty-fifth Street, in Harlem. I should like to buy them, and am willing to pay you seven thousand dollars for the two."Yours truly,"Albert Crossman."
"Mr. Rupert Rollins—
"Dear Sir: I learn that you are the owner of two lots on One Hundred and Twenty-fifth Street, in Harlem. I should like to buy them, and am willing to pay you seven thousand dollars for the two.
"Yours truly,"Albert Crossman."
Rupert read the letter with mingled pleasure and surprise. The lots had cost but one thousand dollars each. That they should have increased in value to such an extent was hardly credible.
He did not feel like deciding the matteruntil he had a chance to consult with Mr. Packard, and he so wrote Mr. Crossman. Now that his mother had lost her position he felt that this stroke of good luck was particularly timely.
He went out in the afternoon to see his mother and Grace. He found that Mr. Strathmore was dead, and that his funeral had taken place.
"I don't know what we shall do, Rupert," said Mrs. Rollins anxiously. "It may be some time before I can obtain another position where I can support myself and Grace. However, I have saved seventy-five dollars, so that for a time I shall not be a burden upon you."
"Don't talk of being a burden, mother. You never can be that."
"But how can your small earnings support three persons?"
"You forget, mother, that I have property."
"To what do you refer, Rupert?"
"To the two lots Mr. Packard gave me."
"I had not supposed them of much value."
"I have an offer of seven thousand dollars for them."
"Is it possible?" asked Mrs. Rollins in amazement.
"It is quite possible. I don't think we are in any immediate danger of the poorhouse. When shall you be ready to come to New York?"
"Whenever I have a home provided; but you remember that I sold my furniture when I accepted the position with Mr. Strathmore."
"I have already looked at a furnished flat on West Nineteenth Street. It is but twenty dollars a month, and will make you a pleasant home."
"But isn't that a high rent to pay?"
"Not in our present circumstances. However, I will wait till Mr. Packard reaches the city, and consult with him. I expect him in a day or two."
"Will the proprietor of the Somerset Hotel receive you back as a bell-boy?"
"He would, but I have declined the place."
"But you will have to do something, Rupert."
Rupert smiled.
"Don't feel anxious, mother," he said, "Mr.Packard is a rich man, and he is a faithful friend. I think he will arrange something for me."
The next day Mr. Packard and his uncle, John Plympton, reached New York and established themselves at the Somerset Hotel. Rupert learned with satisfaction of Mr. Plympton's recovery of his money from his knavish nephew.
"And now, Rupert," said the cattleman, "tell me about your own affairs."
"First, I have received an offer of seven thousand dollars for the two lots you gave me."
"That is fine. They have gone up surprisingly."
"Would you advise me to sell them?"
"Yes. Sell them and invest half the money in other lots less desirably situated. It is only a question of time when they, too, can be sold to advantage."
"And the other half of the money?"
"Invest in good bank stock or Government bonds, where they will yield an income."
"I am sure that is good advice."
"How about your mother?"
"The gentleman for whom she acted as housekeeper is dead, and she must seek a new home. I have looked at a furnished flat in West Nineteenth Street, renting at twenty dollars a month."
"I have another plan to propose. I have got tired of living in Colorado, though I shall retain my business interests there. I want to have a home for my uncle and myself here. I shall hire a moderate-sized house, and run it myself, and engage your mother to take charge of it, if she should be willing."
"Nothing would please her better, Mr. Packard," said Rupert, earnestly.
"As it may take me a little time to make the necessary arrangements, send for your mother and let her make a temporary home at this hotel. I will defray the expenses."
"You are very kind, Mr. Packard."
"Well, who has a better right? I have a great mind to adopt you, young man."
"I shan't make any violent opposition, Mr. Packard. But what will your nephew in Rochester say?"
"Of course Eben won't like it, but I claima right to do what I like with my own. I shall not disinherit his family wholly, but what I leave to them will be so tied up that Eben can't get at it. It is amusing, the change that came over him when he learned that I was not a destitute cowboy, but a man of property."
The next day Mrs. Rollins was installed at the hotel, and Mr. Packard began to look around for a house such as he desired.
"There shall be a nice room for you, Uncle John," he said. "I will promise to treat you as well as Eben did."
"I can pay for my board, Giles. I don't want to cost you too much."
"You will pay for your board when I send in a bill. Don't trouble yourself till then."
"But I am able to work, Giles."
"I may find some light work for you, Uncle John, just to keep you from being uneasy."
Mr. Packard was a man of promptness and energy. He visited a real estate agent, and soon made choice of a medium-sized house in a good neighborhood. This he furnishedplainly and quickly, for there is no need of delay where means are abundant. Inside of a month the little family were comfortably established in their new home.
"Will there be room for Fred, my little ward?" asked Rupert.
"Certainly. It will be pleasant to have a young child in the house."
Rupert had one apprehension. He feared that his friends, the Bentons, would miss the sum he paid for the little boy's board. But Mrs. Benton set him at ease.
"An old schoolmate of my husband, who is in a business position on Pearl Street, would like to board with us," she said, "and is able and willing to pay a liberal sum. I feared at first that he would not be satisfied with our modest quarters, but he says he wants a home, not a stylish boarding-house, so he will be content."
"Then you won't be inconvenienced by losing Fred's board?"
"No, but we shall miss the dear child's company. You must let him come to see us sometimes."
"Certainly I will, and we shall always be glad to see you as a visitor. Does Mr. Benton still find his place on Grand Street agreeable and satisfactory?"
"Yes. He seems to stand high in the estimation of his employer."
Little Fred at first was sorry to leave Mrs. Benton, but soon formed an attachment for Mrs. Rollins and Grace.
"Since he is your adopted son, Rupert," said his mother, "I suppose I may look upon him as my grandson."
"By adoption, mother," said Rupert, with a smile.
"Now, Mr. Packard, what do you advise me to do?" asked Rupert.
"Spend at least six months in study. Go to some commercial college, and when you have completed your course of instruction I shall be ready with some plan for you."
Rupert was walking down Broadway some two months later when he came unexpectedly upon Julian Lorimer.
Julian was swinging a light cane, and wore a "stunning" necktie. He glanced superciliously at Rupert, and was about to pass without recognition, but curiosity overcame pride, and he called out,
"Halloo, Rollins!"
"Halloo, Lorimer!" answered Rupert.
Julian frowned slightly. It was all very well for him to say "Rollins," but he expected Rupert to say "Mr. Lorimer."
"I haven't seen you for some time," he said. "Are you still a bell-boy?"
"No."
"Got sacked, eh?"
"I sacked myself."
"What are you doing, then?"
"Going to a commercial school."
Julian looked surprised.
"Who pays your expenses if you are earning nothing?"
"I pay my own bills, thank you."
"It's very foolish for you to give up work. You will spend all your money, and what will you do then?"
"Perhaps apply to your father for a situation," said Rupert, smiling.
"I don't think he needs any cash-boys at present.
"Are you working?"
"Yes, I am with Ward & Weston, Wall Street brokers."
"I hope you like it."
"I do. When I am twenty-one pop will buy me a seat on the brokers' board, and I will go in for myself."
"I wish you success, Julian."
"You are very kind," said Julian, ironically. "I guess there's no doubt of that. We have a great many influential friends. I go into the best society," he added, pompously.
"You must enjoy it."
"I do. A week from this evening I am to attend a party at the house of Albert Fraser. His father is a rich merchant in the China trade."
Rupert's face lighted up with amusement.
Albert Fraser was his most intimate friend, being a student at the same commercial college, and he, too, had received an invitation to the party.
"Julian will be astonished to see me there," he thought.
"Is Albert Fraser a nice fellow?" he asked, demurely.
"First class."
"I wish you would introduce me to him, Julian."
"You!" said Julian, contemptuously. "Didn't you hear me say that his father was a wealthy merchant?"
"Yes."
"I shouldn't feel at liberty to introduce you," said Julian, haughtily.
"Why not?"
"Because there is a great difference between a boy in his position and one in yours."
"I don't see why."
"Aren't you an ex-bell-boy?"
"Yes."
"That's enough."
"For all that, I think Albert Fraser and I will some time be friends."
"You are foolish. Bell-boys and bootblacks don't associate with gentlemen's sons."
"Yet I associate with you, Julian."
"I look upon you as an humble acquaintance."
"Then I suppose I ought to feel complimented by your condescending to notice me."
"I think I must leave you, as I have an engagement."
"Very well. I will meet you at Albert Fraser's party."
"I suppose that is meant for a joke. It isn't a very good one."
When the evening of the party came, Julian got himself up regardless of expense. He had never before attended a party on Madison Avenue, and he was particular about his appearance.
Entering the house, he was directed to the gentlemen's dressing-room.
What was his surprise—it might almost be called dismay—to find Rupert Rollins arranging his toilet before the mirror.
"Good evening, Julian!" said Rupert, half turning.
"What are you doing here?" demanded Julian abruptly.
"Getting ready to go down stairs. Shall I wait for you?"
"But what calls you to this house, any way?"
"An invitation! Didn't I tell you that I would meet you here this evening?"
"Do you mean to tell me that you know Albert Fraser?"
"Certainly. Shall I wait for you?"
"No."
Rupert smiled and went down stairs by himself. He was talking with Albert Fraser when Julian entered. The latter half drew back when he saw the two boys together. He had tried to persuade himself that Rupert was an unauthorized intruder.
"Good evening," he said with a ceremonious bow.
"Good evening," responded Albert.
Rupert bowed slightly, smiling as he did so.
"Ha! are you two acquainted?"
"Yes," answered Julian superciliously. "I knew Mr. Rollins when he was a bell-boy at the Somerset Hotel."
"And I knew Mr. Lorimer years before that, when his father and my father were partners in Buffalo."
Albert Fraser looked from one to the other and smiled at Julian's angry confusion.
"Rupert," he said, "let me take you up to my sister and introduce you. The grand march will soon begin."
"Thank you, Albert."
Rupert and Edith Fraser led the march, while Julian followed considerably behind, with a fat, red-headed girl of very limited attractions.
It was hard upon poor Julian, and his enjoyment was quite taken away by the social success of his quondam friend Rupert. Rupert, on the other hand, enjoyed himselfimmensely, and was treated very graciously by his fair partner.
* * * * * * *
Six months later Mr. Packard called Rupert aside. He was evidently nervous and ill at ease.
"Rupert," he said, "I am going to ask your advice."
"If you think my advice worth asking, I shall be glad to give it."
"I want you to be plain with me, Rupert Do you think I am too old to be married?"
"Certainly not, Mr. Packard."
"I am forty-five, and I never was very good-looking."
"You are a good, kind-hearted man, and any woman ought to be happy with you. But I didn't know you had made many lady acquaintances."
"I haven't, but there is one lady I should like to marry. I may as well come out with it, Rupert. Do you think your mother would marry me? But—I see you look surprised. I suppose I am a great fool."
"You mistake me, Mr. Packard. I amsurprised, for the idea never entered my head before."
"I suppose you wouldn't like the idea," said Giles Packard nervously.
"On the contrary, I approve it. Of course I don't know how mother may look upon it."
"But you don't object to it?"
"No, Mr. Packard, I wish you success."
Mrs. Rollins was surprised to receive an offer of marriage from Mr. Packard, but she had learned to know his many good qualities and was grateful to him for his kindness to Rupert, and after a brief time for consideration she gave her consent.
There was little change in their way of living, but of course there was an end of pecuniary cares and anxiety for the future.
Mr. Packard decided to go into business in New York on his own account. Rupert is his confidential clerk, and has a handsome salary. Mr. Packard's natural shrewdness has made his venture a success from the start He sold out his Colorado cattle ranch on very favorable terms to two parties from the East,and now his time is exclusively employed in his New York business.
Some time since theEvening Worldcontained the following announcement:
"Mr. Stephen Lorimer, the well-known dry-goods merchant of Third Avenue, is reported in difficulties. A meeting of his creditors has been called, but so serious are his embarrassments that it is doubted whether he will be permitted to go on."
"Mr. Stephen Lorimer, the well-known dry-goods merchant of Third Avenue, is reported in difficulties. A meeting of his creditors has been called, but so serious are his embarrassments that it is doubted whether he will be permitted to go on."
This prediction was verified. Mr. Lorimer now occupies a position as salesman in a dry-goods house in Chicago, not being willing to fill such a place in any city where he had been in business for himself, and is obliged to live in a very plain way.
There was little sympathy felt for him by those who had been in his employ. He had done nothing to win their favor. But Julian is very discontented. He is working in an office at four dollars a week, and feels that life is not worth living under his altered circumstances.
Rupert's real estate has increased largely in value, and he is worth quite a competency in his own right. His young charge, Fred,has developed a taste for study, and Rupert intends to have him prepare for college.
"You ought to have gone to college yourself," said Mr. Packard.
"No," answered Rupert. "I am cut out for business. Fred must be the scholar, and I will be the business man."
Frank Sylvester, Rupert's first friend, has returned from Europe, and the friendship between them has been renewed. Though Rupert has been so prosperous, he is never ashamed to refer to the time when he was a bell-boy.
Nor does he forget his old friends. Recently he met Leslie Waters standing in front of the Coleman House looking seedy and dilapidated.
"How is the world using you, Leslie?" he asked.
"Badly, my dear boy," answered Leslie, mournfully. "Our company was stranded at Pittsburg and I had to walk all the way to New York. The profession isn't what it was."
"Then why not leave it? I think I can get you a business position."
But Leslie Waters was too much enamored of the stage to forsake it. When he is in hard luck Rupert always helps him, and he still works on, hoping some day to achieve eminence. But the prospect does not look encouraging.