"I don't think Scott would take my money," said Mrs. Little.
"I don't like to think so myself," rejoined Loammi, "but some one must have taken it."
"You say that Scott has a five-dollar bill?" said his mother, doubtfully.
"Yes, I saw it."
"When did you see it?"
"This evening. I was surprised, for I knew he was poor."
Mrs. Little began to think that Scott might have yielded to sudden temptation.
"Won't you call Scott?" she said. "He is in his room."
Loammi obeyed with alacrity.
He knocked at Scott's door, and it was opened to him.
"Scott," he said, "ma wants to see you. Can you come downstairs?"
"Certainly."
Scott was somewhat surprised, but he went down at once.
Mrs. Little looked embarrassed. She was a kind-hearted woman, and she shrank from charging Scott with theft.
"Did you wish to speak with me, Mrs. Little?" asked Scott.
"Yes; I have met with a loss. My pocketbook, containing a sum of money, has disappeared."
"I am sorry to hear it."
"I thought possibly you or Loammi might have seen it."
"I have not seen anything of a pocketbook. When did you miss it?"
"I have not seen it since three o'clock this afternoon."
"Do you remember whether you laid it down anywhere?"
"Yes; I laid it on the bureau in my room."
"Then how could I have seen it? I don't go into your room."
"Nor I," put in Loammi.
"I hope you don't suspect either of us of stealing it," said Scott, gravely.
"I don't know what to think. Loammi tells methat you have in your possession a five-dollar bill. The pocketbook contained a five-dollar bill."
"Yes, Mrs. Little; I have a five-dollar bill of my own, I have had it for some time. This Loammi knew, and also where I got it."
"I don't know anything about that. But it seems very strange what can have become of the money."
"Ma," put in Loammi, "tell me in what sort of a pocketbook you kept the money?"
Mrs. Little gave a description of it.
"I have something to propose. Suppose you search my chamber and Scott's, to see if there is any such pocketbook in either."
"I don't like to do that. It would be acting as if I thought you dishonest."
"I have no objection for one," said Loammi. "Have you, Scott?"
"None whatever."
"Then suppose we go about it. Go to my chamber first."
The three went into Loammi's room. Of course the search revealed nothing of the lost pocketbook.
"Now, let us go upstairs."
So they proceeded to Scott's room.
Scott sat down on a chair.
"Don't mind me," he said. "Look wherever you see fit."
Loammi lifted the pillow, then the bedclothes, peered behind the table, and under the bed.
"Of course, I haven't the slightest idea of finding it here, Scott," he said, "but it is just as well to look thoroughly."
"You can't please me better."
With a nonchalant air Loammi went to the shelf, and raised the cover of a small tin box.
"What is this?" he asked, drawing from it the pocketbook.
"That is my pocketbook," said Mrs. Little, quickly. "Oh, Scott, how could you have taken it?"
"I wouldn't have believed it," said Loammi, trying to look surprised.
"Let me see that pocketbook," said Scott, quickly.
It was placed in his hand.
"Is this the pocketbook you lost?" he asked, turning to Mrs. Little.
"If it is not, it is exactly like it. Did you have one of this kind?"
"No, and I never saw this before."
Loammi looked significantly at his mother.
"I hope what you say is true," said Mrs. Little, looking troubled.
"It is true. What else was there in the pocketbook except a five-dollar bill?"
"A one-dollar note."
"I know nothing of either. Open this, Loammi, and see if either is in it now."
Loammi did so, but of course the pocketbook was empty.
"Do you think I took this pocketbook from your room, Mrs. Little?" asked Scott.
"What am I to think?"
"I can't tell you. I can tell you what I think."
"What is it?"
"That the person who stole the pocketbook took out the money and placed it where it was found."
"Oh, of course," sneered Loammi; "but who was it?"
"I don't know, but I mean to find out."
He gazed fixedly at Loammi, who flushed a little, for he saw that he was suspected.
"Ma," he said, "I hope you'll forgive Scott. Probably he will be willing to give up the money."
"I consider that remark an insulting one, Loammi. I don't want to be forgiven, nor can I give up money that I didn't take."
"Haven't you got a five-dollar note in your pocket?"
"Yes, but it's my own."
"We won't continue the discussion," said Mrs. Little, sadly. "I would a great deal rather have given away the money than lose it in this way."
"So you think me guilty, Mrs. Little?"
"I shall have to, if you don't explain how the pocketbook came to be in your room."
"That I can't do. Of course it was placed there, but I can't tell who did it."
"Of course I must report the matter to Mr. Little."
"Do so, madam. Perhaps he can think of some way to find out the real thief."
"Ma, I am sleepy. I think I will go to bed," said Loammi.
Mother and son rose, and left the room.
It will readily be supposed that Scott did not sleep much that night. He saw the awkwardness of his position.
He felt convinced that Loammi, if he had not taken the money, had secreted the pocketbook in his room with the design of throwing suspicion upon him. But how could he prove this?
That was the question, and one that baffled him.
Of course it was a despicable thing to do, but he believed that his cousin was quite capable of it.
The next morning Scott shrank from going down to breakfast. It was embarrassing for him to be looked upon as a thief, even though he were supported by the consciousness of innocence.
As soon as he entered the dining room, he saw by Mr. Little's cold and frigid expression that he had been told.
Still, nothing was said until the meal was over.
When Scott rose from the table, Mr. Little said: "Stay behind a minute, young man. I have something to say to you."
"Yes, sir."
"Mrs. Little has told me of the discovery that was made in your chamber last evening."
"Very well, sir."
"But it is not very well. It looks very bad for you."
"Mr. Little, do you think I took your wife's pocketbook?"
"The evidence is pretty conclusive."
"All I can say is that I am as innocent as you are."
"The pocketbook contained a five-dollar bill. I learn that you have a five-dollar bill."
"Yes, sir."
"I think that settles it."
"I beg your pardon, Mr. Little, but you yourself probably have a five-dollar bill in your pocket. It proves nothing."
"You are very plausible, but I am not easily fooled. I have just one thing to say. Give up that five-dollar bill, and we will overlook the theft."
"And if not?"
"Then you must leave my house and consider yourself discharged from my store."
Scott was pale but composed.
"You are treating me with great injustice," he said. "My innocence will some day appear. In the meantime I shall leave your house at once, sir."
"That is for you to decide," said Mr. Little, coldly, as he rose from the table.
Scott walked up slowly to his little chamber. His heart was heavy within him.
He was innocent, yet adjudged guilty. His home and situation were taken from him, and he was turned out into the street.
He resolved to go around and see Cousin Seth. Of his sympathy he felt assured.
He rang the bell, and Mrs. Mead opened the door in person.
"Good-morning, Scott," she said, pleasantly.
"Is Mr. Lawton in?" asked Scott.
"No; he left last evening for the West, to be absent about a month. He asked me to say that he would write you in a day or two. He was called away suddenly by a telegram."
Scott's heart sank within him. He seemed to have lost his only friend.
"Did you wish to see Mr. Lawton about something important?" asked Mrs. Mead.
"Yes, I wish to ask his advice. I have lost my place."
"At Mr. Little's store?"
"Yes."
"I never liked Mr. Little. I am glad Willie has another position."
"Have you a small room vacant, Mrs. Mead? I have left Mr. Little's house also, and I must find a room somewhere."
"I have a small hall bedroom on the third floor."
"What rent do you charge?"
"Two dollars a week, usually, but to you I will make it a dollar and a half."
"Then I will take it. Can I go up at once and leave my valise?"
"Yes; I will show the way."
The room was small, as Mrs. Mead had described it, but it was scrupulously clean. Scott felt that he would be very well satisfied with it, if only he could continue to pay the rent. It was certainly pleasanter than the room he had occupied at Ezra Little's.
"You must dine with us to-night, Mr. Walton," said Mrs. Mead, hospitably. "Willie will be glad to see you, and then you can tell us how you came to leave the store."
As soon as he was settled, Scott went out and began to look for a position. He bought a morning paper, and looked over the advertisements of "Help Wanted."
He took down several names, and began to call in rotation. In several instances he found the places already filled. In one place he was offered two dollars and a half a week, which he knew it would be idle to accept, as it would do little more than pay his room rent.
In one place he was asked where he had worked last.
"At Little's dry-goods store on Eighth Avenue," he answered.
"Why did you leave?"
"Because of a disagreement with Mr. Little."
"I don't think we shall require your services," said the merchant, coldly.
He turned away, as if to intimate that the conference was at an end.
Scott was depressed. He saw that any explanation he might give of his leaving his former place would only injure him. Yet, almost everywhere the question would be asked.
This made him feel all the more that he had been very unjustly treated by Ezra Little. He had been required to plead guilty to a theft which he had not committed, and to replace the money lost with money of his own. He had very properly declined to do this, and now he was thrown out of employment, with very little chance of securing another place.
Several days passed, and Scott must have made application for a hundred situations. But his luck did not improve. One obstacle was a general business depression which made employers averse to hiring new employees.
And all the while his scanty funds were diminishing. He sought out cheap restaurants and limited his orders to the barest necessities, but still his money melted away till at length he was reduced to fifty cents. Besides, his week was aboutout and he would be called upon to pay a second week's rent.
This was, of course, out of the question. Poor Scott was deeply perplexed. He began to think it would have been better if he had complied with Ezra Little's demand for the five-dollar bill. It was about gone now, and he was without an income.
He chanced to be passing the Gilsey House at four o'clock in the afternoon, when he heard his name called.
Looking up, he recognized the familiar face of Justin Wood, whom he had not met for some weeks.
"I am glad to see you once more, Scott," said the young man, cordially. "Why haven't you called upon me?"
"I did call once, but I did not find you in."
"It must have been when I was making a short visit to Philadelphia. But now come in, and give an account of yourself. How does it happen that you are in the streets at this hour?"
"Because, Mr. Wood," answered Scott, gravely, "I have lost my place."
"Then you have a story to tell. Come in, and tell me all about it."
He led the way into the hotel, and Scott followed him into the reading room.
"Now take a seat at the window," said Justin Wood, pointing to an armchair, "and tell me why you were discharged."
Scott told the story in as few words as possible.
"This money which Mr. Little wished you to give up was a part of what you recovered from that swindler at Staten Island, I presume?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then I could certify to its belonging to you. Do you wish me to do so?"
"I don't want to go back to Mr. Little's if I can find another place. Besides, it will still be said that the pocketbook was found in my room."
"Have you any idea who put it there?"
"Yes, I think it was put there by Loammi."
"That is my own conclusion."
"But I don't see how I can bring it home to him."
"There will be a difficulty. If you get evidence of his having changed a five-dollar bill about that time, now——"
"I don't see how I can do that. It happened a week since."
"Where are you living now?"
"I have a room on West Sixteenth Street, at the house of a Mrs. Mead, but I shall have to leave it to-morrow."
"Why?"
"Because I have no money to pay the rent for a second week."
"How much is it?"
"A dollar and a half."
"I might be willing to lend you as much as that," said Justin Wood, smiling.
"Thank you, sir, but I shall need money to buy my meals besides."
"Then I think I shall have to come to your assistance."
Justin Wood put his hand in his pocket, and drew out two five-dollar bills.
"That will tide you over for the present," he said.
"But," said Scott, "ought I accept so much? I don't know when I shall be able to repay you."
"Then we had better consider it a gift."
"Thank you very much, sir."
"It is hardly worth mentioning," he said. "If it will do you good I am glad. Now, you must come in and take some dinner with me. I haveeaten nothing since breakfast, and am almost famished."
The young man ordered a plain, but most appetizing dinner, to which Scott and himself did equal justice. Scott, too, had eaten nothing since breakfast, and that breakfast had been a meager one.
After dinner the two friends hailed a car and went uptown. They spent an hour in Central Park.
Mr. Wood proposed to walk back, and Scott accompanied him.
"Would you mind if I called at Mr. Little's house?" asked Scott. "There may be a letter for me from Cousin Seth."
"Do so, by all means, Scott."
Scott rang the bell, and the door was opened by Ellen. Her eye brightened when she saw Scott, whom she liked much better than Loammi.
"I am glad to see you, Scott," she said. "And where are you living, now?"
"I am boarding on West Sixteenth Street."
"And have you got another place?"
"Not yet. I suppose you heard why I left the house."
"Yes, I did, and it's a shame."
"Did you hear that Mrs. Little's pocketbook was found in my room?"
"Yes, I did, and I know who put it there."
"Who was it?" asked Scott, eagerly.
"Only an hour before, I myself saw Loammi coming out of your chamber. He pretended that he went there expecting to see you."
"Did you tell Mr. Little that?"
"No; but I will if you want me to."
"I may ask you to do it some time. Do you think Loammi took the money?"
"I do that. All this week he's been unusually flush of cash. It's easy to guess where it came from."
"And I have had to suffer for his theft. Oh, by the way, Ellen, has any letter come here for me?"
"There was one came this morning. I'll get it for you."
Scott looked at the postmark of the letter, and saw that it was from Chicago.
Scott opened the letter, which proved to be brief. It was dated at the Sherman House, Chicago, and ran thus:
"I am called away suddenly on business, and may be absent for a month. Should you need to consult me on any subject, direct to me here, as letters will be forwarded if I am absent from the city.Cousin Seth."
"I am called away suddenly on business, and may be absent for a month. Should you need to consult me on any subject, direct to me here, as letters will be forwarded if I am absent from the city.
Cousin Seth."
Scott showed the letter to Mr. Wood.
"I shall be glad to make the acquaintance of Mr. Lawton," said Justin. "He is evidently a good friend of yours."
"If he were here now he might get me a place. I don't stand much chance myself."
"I must see if I can't find some temporary work for you to do. Suppose we take an ice cream. Do you know any good place near by?"
"There is one on Sixth Avenue."
"Very well, we will go there."
Scott led the way to the place already referred to, frequented by his cousin, Loammi. When they entered, Scott saw Loammi seated at a table in the rear part of the saloon.
He espied the new arrival, and was evidently surprised to meet Scott in such a place.
"Hello, Scott!" he called out.
"Good-evening, Loammi," returned Scott, coolly.
"Goin' to take an ice cream?"
"Yes."
"I say, are you working yet?"
"Not yet."
"Then how can you afford to buy ice cream?" Loammi was about to ask, but the presence of Justin Wood checked him. Mr. Wood was handsomely dressed, and looked like a man of means.
"I wonder where Scott picked him up," thought Loammi. He wished to be introduced, but Scott did not give any encouragement in that direction.
Loammi, having no good excuse to stay, rose and left the saloon.
"So that's your cousin?" remarked Justin Wood.
"Yes."
"He looks sly. I am something of a judge of faces, and I don't like his."
"I suppose I am prejudiced against him," said Scott. "I don't think I could ever like him."
Scarcely had Loammi left the saloon, when Scott was surprised to see Ezra Little and his wife enter.
Mrs. Little first caught sight of Scott, and spoke in a low tone to her husband.
Ezra Little, turning his glance in the direction of Scott, eyed him severely.
"So this is where you spend your ill-gotten money," he said, not noticing that Scott was in the company of the fashionably dressed young man sitting on the opposite side of the table.
"I beg your pardon, sir," said Justin Wood, "but it is my money that is being spent."
"I was not aware that you were in the boy's company," said Ezra Little, respectfully, for he saw that Mr. Wood was a gentleman of social position. "I must explain that your companion left my house a week since under discreditable circumstances."
"He told me the circumstances. You assumed that the money he had in his possession was stolen."
"There can hardly be a doubt of it. There wasa five-dollar bill—and the missing pocketbook contained a five-dollar bill."
"I am personally cognizant of the fact that the money was his own. Indeed, I helped to recover it for him from a swindler who had robbed him of it."
"This does not explain the pocketbook being found in his chamber."
"Where your son put it."
"This is a strange charge to make, sir. Have you any grounds for making it?"
"Scott and I called at your house this evening. The servant said that an hour before the discovery of the pocketbook your son was seen by her coming out of Scott's room."
Ezra Little looked startled, and Mrs. Little looked distressed.
"Moreover, I think if you inquire, you will find that some of the stolen money was disposed of in this saloon. Your son only went out ten minutes since. Suppose you inquire whether he has changed a five-dollar bill here recently."
"I will do so."
Ezra Little went up to the cashier.
"I understand," he said, "that my son comes in here frequently."
"Yes, sir, he was here this evening."
"Can you call to mind whether you have ever changed a five-dollar bill for him?"
"I did so about a week since. Was there anything wrong about the bill?"
"I only asked out of curiosity."
Ezra was a hard man, but he was not altogether unjust.
"Scott," he said, "I think there may have been some mistake about your taking the pocketbook. If you will call at the store to-morrow, I will see about taking you back."
Scott bowed, but did not speak. He felt that he could never again be contented in Mr. Little's employment.
When they left the saloon he asked: "What do you advise me to do about going back, Mr. Wood?"
"Don't go," said Justin Wood, promptly. "I will stand by you, and see if I can't get you something better."
"Thank you, sir. I don't want to go back if I can help it. But I am glad my innocence has been proved."
"I fancy your cousin will find himself in hot water."
Loammi was already at the house when his father and mother came in. He had no suspicion of trouble, but was eager to tell his father that he had seen Scott.
He did not observe the unusual sternness on Mr. Little's face.
"Pa," he said, "I saw Scott to-night."
"Where did you see him?"
"At an ice-cream saloon on Sixth Avenue. His money seems to have lasted him pretty well."
"What were you doing there?" was his father's unexpected question.
"Getting an ice cream," answered Loammi, in surprise.
"So your money seems to have lasted pretty well also," said his father.
"An ice cream costs only ten cents, pa."
"How many times have you been there within a week?"
"Once or twice, I believe," answered Loammi, wondering what his father meant by his strict cross-examination.
"Are you sure you have not been there every evening?"
"I don't think so."
"Have you ever had a bill changed there?"
"I don't know what you mean, pa."
But Loammi began to fear that he did understand, and he turned pale.
"Where," asked his father, sternly, "did you get the five-dollar bill that you got changed there a week ago to-day?"
"I don't know anything about any five-dollar bill."
Loammi looked frightened.
"Wasn't it the money you found in your mother's pocketbook?"
"But Scott took that, pa. You know the pocketbook was found in his room."
"Yes, by you. You knew just where to look for it, for you concealed it there."
"Oh, pa, who told you any such wicked story about me?"
"Go downstairs and ask Ellen to come up here."
Loammi would willingly have been excused from doing this, but he knew there was no alternative.
When Ellen appeared, Mr. Little said: "Do you remember the evening when the pocketbook was found in Master Scott's room?"
"Yes, sir."
"Had Scott been in his room that evening?"
"I think not, sir."
"Had any one else been in the room?"
"I saw Loammi coming out from the room about half-past eight."
"Oh, what a story!" ejaculated Loammi, in perturbation.
"It is true, sir," said Ellen, firmly.
"I have no doubt of it. That will do, Ellen."
"Now, what have you to say?" demanded Ezra Little, addressing his son. "Did you or did you not take the pocketbook?"
"Yes, sir," answered Loammi, reluctantly.
"And you had the meanness to throw suspicion on your cousin. I am ashamed of you."
Loammi made no reply for the very good reason that he had nothing to say.
"I have myself seen Scott this evening, and I also learned from the keeper of the ice-cream saloon that you changed a five-dollar bill there a week since. I have told Scott to come back to the store. As for you, you deserve to be punished. I shall therefore reduce your allowance from a dollar a week to fifty cents till the sum you stole has been made up. Now, you can go upstairs to bed."
Loammi shed tears of vexation.
"Now Scott will be crowing over me," hethought to himself. "I can't stand it; I think I will run away."
But he was spared this humiliation.
Scott went into Mr. Little's store the next day and sought the proprietor.
"You can come back to work on Monday morning," said Ezra, "and you can go round to the house this evening."
"Thank you, sir; but I have got another place."
"Another place? Where?"
"With Tower, Douglas & Co."
Ezra Little was very much surprised, for the firm mentioned was in the wholesale line and stood very high.
"How did you get there?"
"Mr. Wood, the gentleman that was with me last evening, recommended me."
"Very well," said Mr. Little, curtly. "You will bear in mind that I offered you your position back. Of course, if you lose your new place I can make no promises."
"Then I will try not to lose it."
The house of Tower, Douglas & Co. occupied a very high position in New York, and was known by reputation all over the country. The firm was liberal and considerate, and there were plenty of boys and young men who sought to enter their establishment.
Rich men sometimes offered the services of their sons, but Mr. Tower was never willing to accept them.
"A boy who works for nothing," he said, "is worth only what he receives. He loses his self-respect, and has no ambition to rise."
Generally, however, the wages paid to beginners were small, not over three or four dollars a week.
Of course it was impossible for Scott to live on such pay. Justin Wood was a relative of Mrs. Tower, and being personally liked by her husband, was the better able to secure favors.
When he obtained Scott's engagement he said: "Now as to the rate of compensation, Mr. Tower; how much are you willing to pay my young friend?"
"We usually pay three dollars a week. We will stretch a point and make it four in the case of young Walton."
"I want you to pay him ten dollars a week."
Mr. Tower looked amazed.
"Impossible!" he exclaimed. "You must be crazy."
"The boy is wholly dependent on what he earns."
"That may be; but I am under no obligation to support him."
"True," said Justin Wood, smiling, "but you may charge the extra six dollars to me."
"That will make a difference; but suppose our other employees find it out; then there will be dissatisfaction."
"Then let him understand that he is only paid ten dollars as a special favor to me, and that the arrangement must be kept strictly secret."
"That will do; but suppose he does not meet our expectations?"
"He will. You need be under no apprehensions.I am something of a judge of boys, and I can assure you that he has a talent for business."
"I will take your word for it until I have a chance to judge for myself."
When Scott was informed that he would receive ten dollars a week he was delighted, and thanked Mr. Tower warmly.
"I am afraid I can't earn that sum, sir," he said.
"I know you can't," said the merchant, "but Mr. Wood is a cousin of my wife, and it is on his account that I pay you so liberal a salary. I expect you to work zealously so that you may deserve it."
"Thank you, sir; I will."
Scott spoke confidently, and Mr. Tower was pleased with his modest self-assurance.
"I don't think Justin is deceived in the boy," he said to himself. "At any rate, I will give him a fair chance."
Six months later, when Justin Wood called and asked how Scott was progressing, Mr. Tower said: "He is a born salesman. He is quick, shrewd, intelligent, and above all, he inspires confidence in customers. We will hereafter pay him ten dollars a week on our own account, and will not ask youto reimburse us. But we will not raise him above that till the end of the year."
"That is perfectly satisfactory. I have only one favor to ask."
"What is that?"
"Send him on the road as soon as you consider him competent. I think he will make a successful drummer."
"That is my intention. Some of my salesmen can never go outside the store. Young Walton will make a good record outside."
Scott had been with the new firm for a month, when Seth Lawton returned from Chicago. He was much pleased at Scott's success, but understood very well that he was indebted for it to the friendly offices of Justin Wood.
"Do your best, Scott," he said. "You are at the bottom of the ladder, but you must climb. Your future depends on yourself. Do you ever see anything of Loammi?"
"I have met him two or three times. He seems surprised, and I think a little disappointed, at my success."
"Does he know how much you receive?"
"No; I promised to keep that a secret. But he knows that I live in a comfortable boarding houseon Lexington Avenue, and have a good room. If he knew I was paid ten dollars a week he would want to borrow money. His father has reduced his allowance to fifty cents a week, and he complains that he might as well be a newsboy. 'Don't you think the old man is mean?' he asked me yesterday."
"And what did you reply?"
"I told him that I didn't care to criticise his father."
"Good! I see you are discreet. What is Ezra going to do with his son? Will he train him up to business?"
"Loammi says he is going to Columbia College, or perhaps to Yale."
"He will never get there. He won't study hard enough."
"So I think, Cousin Seth. I wish I had the chance."
"Would you really like to go to college, Scott?" asked Seth Lawton, thoughtfully.
"No, I think not as I am at present situated. I could not enter before I am eighteen, and by that time I shall be well advanced in the knowledge of business."
"I think you are right, but I advise you to study,and read instructive books in your leisure hours."
"I am doing that, Cousin Seth, and I am thinking soon of taking a commercial course in some business college."
"Do so, and I will pay the bill for tuition."
"I can afford to pay that myself, cousin. You are too generous. That is what keeps you poor."
Seth Lawton smiled.
"Oh, I am not so unselfish as you suppose," he said. "I make enough to live comfortably."
"Yes, Cousin Seth, but you ought to be saving up money. You are no longer a young man."
"I should think not, at fifty-five."
"And suppose you get sick, how are you to live?"
"Don't you think Ezra Little would take care of me?"
Scott laughed.
"I am afraid not," he answered; "but you have another relative who would be glad to help you."
"Meaning yourself."
"Yes."
"Good boy!" said Seth, and he looked moved. "Yes, I think you would be willing to help me if I were in need, but at present you have only enough for yourself."
"I am saving a little money, cousin."
"What! Out of ten dollars a week?"
"Yes; ten dollars a week is quite a liberal salary."
"You are right. It will do you no harm to be economical. By the way, has Ezra Little never returned to you the forty dollars you placed in his hands?"
"No."
"You should ask him for it."
"I would rather not," said Scott, shrinking.
"But it is rightfully yours. He has no excuse for keeping it."
"I don't think I would like to speak to him on the subject," said Scott, thoughtfully.
"Then I will."
In fact, Mr. Lawton lost no time in doing as he proposed. He called at Ezra Little's house and broached the subject.
"Ezra," he said, "I understand that you have forty dollars belonging to Scott."
"I don't look upon it in that light," said Mr. Little. "I gave the boy a place in my store."
"And all you gave him was his board."
"True; but that was more than he earned."
"I don't agree with you. It strikes me, Ezra,that it is small business to take the boy's small capital and appropriate it to your own use."
Ezra Little looked incensed.
"Mr. Lawton," he said, "it strikes me that your interference is impertinent."
"On the contrary, as Scott has no one else to speak up for him, I consider that, as his near relative, it is my duty to do it."
"If you had attended to your own affairs, instead of meddling with others, you would not be in danger of going to the poorhouse, as you are at present."
"Am I?" asked Seth, looking amused. "You seem to know a good deal about my affairs."
"I don't suppose you have a hundred dollars in the world. If you should be in need you mustn't expect me to help you."
"I shall not. You are pretty safe on that score, Ezra."
"I see you are poor and proud. However, I am glad to hear it."
"Then suppose we return to Scott's money. Are you prepared to give it back?"
"No, I am not."
"I don't think it will do you any good. Robbing the orphan——"
"Mr. Lawton, I will not submit to such insinuations. If Scott should lose his position, as he is likely to do if he is guided by your advice, I will help him out of the money in my hands."
"Very well; I will hold you to that. However, I don't think he is likely to be placed in that predicament."
"How much does he receive from Tower, Douglas & Co.?"
"More than you paid him. However, I will not occupy any more of your time. If you become ashamed of your meanness, you can let me know."
"Seth Lawton, I won't stand any more of your impertinence. You appear to forget who I am."
"I am not likely to forget who and what you are, Ezra. Good-evening!"
"The beggar!" soliloquized the merchant. "He need never expect any favors from me. He will yet repent his impertinence."
Had Scott spent all his salary he could not have been charged with extravagance, for ten dollars a week in a large city melts away, but he made it a matter of principle to save two dollars weekly. So at the end of a year he had one hundred dollars, and was fairly well clothed.
It was on the last day of the year that he received a summons to the office.
He answered it with some little trepidation, for it was possible that the firm had decided to dispense with his services.
"Take a seat, Scott," said Mr. Tower, pleasantly, when he entered the office. "I believe you have been with us for a year."
"Yes, sir."
"We are quite satisfied with you. You have shown ability as a salesman, and have taken anintelligent interest in the business. For this reason we are disposed to promote you."
"Thank you, sir," said Scott, much gratified.
"Though you are unusually young, we are disposed to try you on the road. How would you like that?"
"I should like nothing better."
"Your compensation, if you are successful, would be considerably greater than you are now paid. How much, will depend upon your success."
"I should be quite content with that arrangement, sir."
"We shall start you out probably within a week. One of our salesmen is sick, and we shall put you on his route. You will go to Cleveland and intermediate places. You will receive your instructions in due time."
"Thank you, sir."
Scott left the office much elated. He knew that there was no drummer employed by the firm less than twenty-three years of age, while he was barely eighteen. He resolved to succeed if success were possible, for he felt that this would give him an important position and an excellent income.
"How fortunate I did not stay with CousinEzra," he thought. "If I had probably I should not be receiving more than six dollars a week now."
Scott, as has already been said, boarded on Lexington Avenue. He occupied a small room, and paid but five dollars a week, but those who occupied the larger rooms paid in proportion to the accommodation enjoyed.
In the room just opposite to his lived a man of about forty, whom Scott had met more than once on the stairs but did not feel very well acquainted with.
Just after supper he was preparing to go out, when there was a knock at the door.
Opening it, he found that the caller was his opposite neighbor. He was looking pale and depressed.
"Can you lend me a few matches?" he asked.
"Certainly, Mr. Babcock; won't you step in and sit down?" said Scott, cordially.
The visitor hesitated, then said, slowly: "I will do so, but I shall not be very good company."
"I am glad of the chance of making your acquaintance," said Scott. "I have only seen you on the stairs heretofore."
"I don't think you will see much more of me," said the visitor, soberly.
"Why not? Are you intending to move away?"
"It is not exactly a matter of choice," said Babcock.
Scott could guess why, for his visitor was very poorly clad. His suit was frayed and rusty, and there were unmistakable marks of poverty about his whole appearance.
Scott felt delicate about speaking of this. He contented himself with saying: "I am sorry to hear it."
"The fact is," went on Babcock, with a sigh, "I am a failure, and have just begun to realize it."
"If you wouldn't mind telling me about it," said Scott, gently, "I can at least sympathize with you."
"Sympathy will be welcome. It is long since I have had any."
He paused, and presently continued:
"You must know that I am an inventor. I need say no more to satisfy you that I am a visionary and unpractical man."
"I don't know about that. There have been many successful inventors."
"And I might be one but for one unfortunate circumstance."
"What is that, sir?"
"I have used up all my money, and though theinvention is perfected, I am unable to reap the benefit of it."
"Would you mind telling me the nature of your invention?"
"It is a window fastener. You may think it a trifle, but it is the small inventions which from their nature come into common use, and thus pay the best."
"I can understand that. How long have you been at work on your invention?"
"A year. I had a little money when I began, and it has supported me while I was at work. Now that the invention is perfected, I am without funds. I may as well be plain, and say that I cannot pay my next week's board."
"Couldn't you get some man with money to help you?"
"It is what I have been hoping for. In fact, I called yesterday on a prominent merchant, and laid the matter before him."
"Who was it, Mr. Babcock?"
"Ezra Little."
Scott looked surprised.
"He is a relative of mine," he said. "How did he treat you?"
"He listened to what I had to say, and promisedto write to me. He did so. Shall I show you the letter?"
"If you are willing."
The inventor drew from his pocket a typewritten letter, and showed it to Scott. It ran thus:
"Mr. Henry Babcock."Dear Sir: I have thought over the small invention you showed me yesterday. I doubt if there is any money in it, but as I presume you are in want, I will give you thirty-five dollars for it. I can stand the small loss, and it will tide you over till you can get a position that will support you."Yours truly,"Ezra Little."
"Mr. Henry Babcock.
"Dear Sir: I have thought over the small invention you showed me yesterday. I doubt if there is any money in it, but as I presume you are in want, I will give you thirty-five dollars for it. I can stand the small loss, and it will tide you over till you can get a position that will support you.
"Yours truly,"Ezra Little."
"Mr. Little is not very liberal," said Scott, smiling.
"No," answered the inventor, bitterly. "Think of the year's labor I have spent upon it, and the prospect before me if I accept this paltry sum. With economy it would last me a month, and then what would become of me?"
"True; but there are other men besides Mr. Little, who might perhaps deal with you more generously."
"You are right, but I don't think you understand my position. My available funds are reduced to two dollars. Sometimes in my desperation I have thought I would go down to Brooklyn Bridge, and end it all. I think I should have done so but for one thing."
"What is that?" asked Scott, beginning to show a strong personal interest in his unfortunate visitor.
"I have a little daughter—four years old. I must live for her."
"Yes, you must live for her and yourself, too. You may yet be successful."
"Do you perhaps know of some capitalist?" asked the inventor, eagerly.
"I know of a gentleman who is well supplied with money, and I will lay the matter before him. Meanwhile, as you need the money, accept this loan."
Scott drew from his pocket two five-dollar bills and tendered them to Mr. Babcock.
"You have given me new life and new hope," said the inventor, his pale face brightening. "Who is the gentleman?"
"A Mr. Wood—Justin Wood. He lives at the Gilsey House, and he has been very kind to me.In fact, I owe the position I hold to him."
"Is he—a practical man? Would he see the possibilities of my invention?"
"I can't say, but out of regard to me he would give it consideration."
"When can we see him? Excuse my impatience, but you can understand how much it means to me."
"I do, Mr. Babcock, and I will therefore go with you to his hotel this very evening, though we may possibly not find him in."
"If you will be so kind I will get ready at once."
In five minutes they were on their way to the Gilsey House.
Arrived at the Gilsey House, Scott went into the reading room, thinking he might find Mr. Wood there. But he failed to see him.
"Whom are you looking for?" asked Edward Stripling, the telephone boy, who occupied one corner of the room.
"Mr. Wood."
"Perhaps you are the one he wanted to see. He told me to tell any one inquiring that he would be back in fifteen minutes."
"Then we shan't have to wait long, Mr. Babcock."
The inventor took up a paper from the table, but he was so nervous that he could not concentrate his attention upon it.
Ten minutes later Justin Wood entered the room.
"I am glad to see you, Scott," was his cordial greeting.
"Thank you, Mr. Wood. I come on business. Let me introduce Mr. Babcock."
"Glad to see you, Mr. Babcock," said Wood, courteously.
"Could we go up to your room? We won't keep you long."
"Certainly. Follow me."
Mr. Wood had a front room on the third floor a pleasant apartment, for which he paid a high rent.
"Now, Mr. Wood," began Scott, "I am going to ask your attention for ten minutes."
"I will give you fifteen, if necessary," said Wood, smiling.
Thereupon Scott told the story of the inventor, to which Justin Wood listened attentively.
"Have you a model of your invention?" he asked, turning to Babcock.
"Here it is, sir."
The young man asked various questions, which Babcock answered satisfactorily.
"I think well of your invention," said Mr. Wood, in conclusion. "Now, what do you want me to do?"
Scott answered.
"Mr. Babcock has exhausted all his means andis penniless," he said. "The invention is perfected, but he is not in a position to put it before the public. He has, to be sure, received offers of assistance from a gentleman whom we both know."
"To whom do you refer?"
"Ezra Little."
"Indeed! Is that liberal gentleman willing to help him?"
"He offers me thirty-five dollars for the invention," said Babcock, bitterly. "I have spent a whole year in perfecting it, and this is to be my compensation."
"I think you had better not trouble Mr. Little," observed Justin, quietly. "How much money do you need to put it before the public?"
"If I had one hundred and fifty dollars," said the inventor, hesitatingly, "I think I could manage. I would be willing to sell a one-half interest for that sum."
"That would not be enough," said Wood, decidedly.
"With it I'd stand some chance of success."
"I will tell you what I will do. I will give you five hundred dollars for one-third interest, on condition that you work zealously to make it a success."
"Oh, sir, you are too generous," said Babcock, with emotion. "With that money I see my way clear."
"What would be your plan?"
"I can make arrangements with a responsible party to manufacture it, and will myself travel and put it before the public."
"I will risk it."
"I am sure, sir, that you will get your money back several times over."
"I hope so. I am not buying it for myself, but for a friend of mine."
Scott looked at him inquiringly.
"The friend is Scott Walton," he said, smiling. "Should it pay, I shall deduct the five hundred dollars from the first money received in the way of profit, and then make over the whole investment to you, Scott. I hope it may make you rich."
"How can I thank you, Mr. Wood?" said Scott, gratefully.
"Wait till you see whether you have anything to be grateful for."
"There is no doubt about that," said the inventor, confidently. "You will excuse me for saying, Mr. Wood, that I shall work even harder for my young friend Walton than I would for you."
"That is just what I wish. I am already rich, while Scott has his fortune yet to make."
"I will help him to make it."
"Come around to-morrow, Mr. Babcock, at ten o'clock, and I will have the money ready. We will also have papers regularly drawn up, so that Scott's share of the investment may be secured to him. And now, I shall have to bid you good-evening, as I have an engagement with a friend at the Union League Club."
The two went out.
The inventor was fairly radiant.
"Mr. Walton," he said, "you don't know what you have done for me. You have given me a new lease of life. When I came to your room to-night I was in a mood that might have led me to throw myself from the Brooklyn Bridge. Mr. Little's cold-blooded letter had much to do with bringing on that mood. I felt that there was no hope for me."
"And now?"
"Now I have hope—and confidence. I have a presentiment of success. I shall make myself rich and you also."
"I hope your presentiment will prove prophetic," said Scott, smiling. "I can assure you thata fortune will be welcome. At present I have only accumulated one hundred dollars."
"That is not bad for a young man of your age."
"Say a boy. I am not ashamed of being a boy."
"Remember I am speaking of my partner. I must speak of him with respect."
"Did I tell you I was going to leave the city for a time?"
"No. Why is it? You have not lost your place, I hope."
"No, I am going to travel for the firm. If I am lucky I shall soon earn an excellent income."
"You are sure to do that."
"How can you tell that I will succeed?"
"I was not referring to your regular position. I was thinking of your interest in my invention."
"You are confident, then, of success?"
"I am quite confident of it."
"I hope you are right; mostly, however, on your account, for I think my future is tolerably secure."
"I see you have no idea of the value of your interest in my enterprise."
"I shall not think seriously of it, but I will welcome any good that may come to me from it."
"My life will be changed," said Babcock. "I shall at once send for my little Molly."
"Is that your little daughter?"
"Yes."
"Where is she now?"
"In the country. Now, I shall feel justified in bringing her to the city. She is a sweet little girl."
"I am sure you will be happier for having her with you."
"Yes, you may well say that."
"By the way, have you answered Ezra Little's letter?"
"No; I shall answer it in person to-morrow, after I have concluded arrangements with your friend."
About two o'clock the next day, the inventor took his way to Ezra Little's dry-goods store on Eighth Avenue. He sent in his name and was admitted.
He was a welcome visitor, for Mr. Little, who was a practical man, had a fair conception of the value of his invention, and meant to make a fortune out of it—for himself. As for the poor inventor, he cared little for him.
Henry Babcock entered the merchant's presence, and was bidden to take a seat.
"I received a letter from you, Mr. Little," he said.
"Yes. I offered you thirty-five dollars for your invention."
"That seems to me very small."
"Probably it is more than I shall make out of it, but you seemed to be in need, and I am willing to help you."
"Don't you think, however, you could let me have more? Thirty-five dollars would not support me a month."
"It would give you time to look for a place, Mr. Babcock."
"But, Mr. Little, think of the time I have spent—and the money!"
"That does not concern me," said the merchant, coldly.
"I think I shall have to decline your offer."
"That is foolish. However, I will strain a point, and give you fifty dollars."
Henry Babcock shook his head.
"Mr. Little," he said, triumphantly, "I have sold a one-third interest in my invention for five hundred dollars."
Ezra Little looked amazed and disappointed. It was a chance of his life lost.
"What fool gave you that sum?" he asked, roughly.
"A Mr. Wood, to whom your cousin, Scott Walton, introduced me."
"Why didn't you tell me that at first?" snarled Ezra Little. "Wood must have been a fool to be influenced by that boy. Good-morning!"