Red Ralph and his companion slept soundly till after nine o'clock. The drug was only of moderate strength, or they would have slept longer.
When Ralph opened his eyes he saw the breakfast table spread, and his wife moving about the room. He looked around him half dazed.
"How does it happen that I am asleep on the floor?" he asked.
"You fell from your chair last night."
"Why didn't you rouse me, and make me go to bed?"
"I tried to, but you slept too sound."
"It is strange I should sleep so—and Conrad, too. What time is it?"
"Half-past nine."
"Has there been any noise in the room above, where the strangers are sleeping?"
"I have heard none."
"The potion kept them asleep. I must go up and rouse them."
"What are you going to do to them, Ralph? You won't injure them?"
"I must have their money. I may as well take Conrad with me. Here, Conrad, wake up!" and he shook his companion with no gentle hand.
Conrad opened his eyes, and looked sleepily around him.
"How came I here?" he asked.
"You took too much whisky and got stupid drunk," said Ralph, not mentioning that he, too, had been in the same box. "Is breakfast ready, Sarah?"
"Yes."
"Then we'll sit up and eat. I am famished. Come, Conrad."
"Won't you rouse the strangers first?"
"No. That will do afterward. If I get their money, you may give them some breakfast, too."
"Very well."
The woman spoke calmly, but she was inwardly excited. She knew that her husband would be enraged when he learned that the prisoners had escaped, but she hoped that her agency in the matter would not be suspected.
The two men ate heartily, and his breakfast made Ralph feel better natured.
When the meal was over, he said: "Come with me, Conrad. We have work to do."
He went upstairs, followed by his accomplice.
The key was in the lock, just as he had left it, apparently.
He turned the key, and opened the door of the chamber. What he expected to see was the two travelers in a profound slumber. What he did see was the bed disarranged and the chamber empty.
"What does all this mean?" he ejaculated, starting back in surprise.
"They're not here!" said Conrad, looking about him.
"Of course they're not, you fool! But how could they get away?"
Conrad pointed to one of the windows that was half open.
"That explains it," he said.
Ralph hurried to the window, and put his head out.
Stretching from the window to the ground was the bed cord.
This was a piece of strategy on the part of his wife. After the departure of Scott and the earl,she had removed the bed cord, and fastened it to the window to mislead her husband into supposing that it was in this way their guests had escaped.
"Well, I'll be blowed!" ejaculated Ralph.
"They must have smelt a rat," said Conrad, sagely.
"What I can't understand is how a man of good weight could have been held up by such a slender cord. And it doesn't seem to be stretched at all."
"It may be stronger than you think," suggested Conrad.
"I suppose it was, but I wouldn't like to trust myself to it."
"I wouldn't mind."
"Try it, then."
Conrad was a man who inclined to be venturesome. He got out of the window, and tried to lower himself by the rope. The slender cord broke, and he fell and lay an inglorious heap on the greensward below.
"I told you so!" said Ralph, with a loud laugh.
"The man strained it," said Conrad, looking rather foolish.
"Here, Sarah," called out Ralph, "come and look here."
Outwardly calm, but with inward trepidation, Ralph's wife ascended the stairs.
"What's the matter?" she asked.
"What's the matter? You can see for yourself. The men have escaped."
"So they have," she said, in affected surprise. "How did they do it?"
"Climbed out of the window by the bed cord. Didn't you hear it?"
"They must have done it before I was up," she replied, evading a direct answer.
"Conrad," called out Ralph, with a sudden thought, "go out to the barn, and see if they have taken the horse."
"Yes, they have. The horse isn't there," reported Conrad.
"Then I've been taken in, and done for. What beats me is, how did they suspect anything?"
"You forget," said the wife, "that they may have missed the wallet."
"That's true. I should like to know how long they have been gone. I wonder you didn't hear the horse."
"I think I slept pretty sound myself. It was not till late that I went to bed."
"Well, there's no use in crying over spilt milk,"said Ralph, philosophically. "At any rate we've got the five dollars."
"And that will pay for all they got here."
"Especially," chimed in Conrad, "as they went off without their breakfast."
"So they did," said Ralph, with a broad smile.
He seemed amused by the thought that their guests had, after all, been overreached, and this contributed to restore his good humor.
Sarah breathed a sigh of relief. Her stratagem had been successful, and there was no suspicion entertained by her husband that she had assisted the two to escape. Had he suspected it, she shuddered to think what would have happened.
When Scott and the earl reached the hotel at Niagara, they went up to their room to finish out a night's rest, their slumber at the farmhouse having been interrupted.
The consequence was that they appeared late at breakfast.
Meanwhile there had been an arrival at the hotel of two characters well known to the reader.
Two days previously, Ezra Little suddenly determined to go to Buffalo. By the failure of a large firm in that city a considerable stock of goodshad been thrown on the market. It was almost certain that the stock would be sold out for much less than its real value.
Ezra Little, among others, had received a notice from the assignee of the approaching sale. The goods were, many of them, in his line, and in several departments his own stock was getting short.
"I think, Mr. Allen," he said to his superintendent, "I shall run on to Buffalo, and examine the stock of Frost, Burks & Co., and if it is a sacrifice sale I shall probably make considerable purchases."
"It will be an excellent plan, I think, Mr. Little. We are running short in several departments. Besides, it will be a pleasant trip for you."
"That is true; I haven't been fifty miles from the city for three years. Three years since, I went to Philadelphia, and ever since then I have tied myself down to business."
"I will look after things while you are gone. I understand your system."
When Ezra Little announced at home that he was going to Buffalo, the news made a sensation.
"Isn't Buffalo near Niagara Falls?" asked Loammi.
"Certainly."
"You will go there, won't you?"
"Yes, I will try to get time. I shall never have a better opportunity."
"Oh, pa, won't you take me?" asked Loammi, eagerly.
"Take you? Why should I?"
"I should enjoy it so much."
"No doubt, but the expense will be too great. The car fare and hotel rates will amount to considerable."
"But, pa, as you were just saying, you will probably clear more than a thousand dollars by the purchase you propose to make."
"That is not certain."
"Oh, yes it is; you are so sharp and shrewd, pa."
Ezra Little's pride was flattered.
"Well, yes," he said, "I think I am fairly sharp."
"And my expenses won't be much."
Ezra looked undecided.
At this point his wife intervened.
"You had better take Loammi, Ezra," she said. "It will be a pleasure to him, and if you are sick he can take care of you."
"Well, Loammi," said his father, with unwonted good humor, "I think I will let you go. But you must be ready at six o'clock this evening."
"I'll be ready, pa, never fear."
Loammi and his father arrived late in the evening at Niagara, and put up at the International Hotel. Had they looked back in the book of arrivals they would have seen the name of Scott Walton, but they failed to do so.
As they sped over the Central Railroad, Loammi was in high spirits. It was his first long journey and he felt somehow that it would increase his consequence. He was prepared to make much of it on his return, and he felt that his friends and schoolfellows would be impressed.
The International Hotel seemed to him quite grand, and as he had never been a guest at a hotel before, he quite enjoyed his new way of living.
"Isn't it fine, pa?" he said, as they walked through the office.
"It is fine enough," responded his father, practically, "but it costs money, Loammi; I expectthey'll be charging me four or five dollars a day."
"Oh, well, pa, you can afford it."
"That may be, but I am afraid it is money thrown away to pay your expenses on such a trip. It would have been better to pay you ten dollars, and let you stay at home."
"I wouldn't have been willing to do it, pa. Wouldn't Scott like to be traveling as we are doing?"
"I presume he would. You haven't heard anything of him, have you?"
"No."
"He can't be in New York, I should say."
"He's probably tramping about somewhere," said Loammi, rather contemptuously.
"I think the boy has some business talent," his father remarked, who was not so much prejudiced as his son.
"Oh, I suppose he'd pass, but he couldn't hold a place. He had to leave you and now he's left Tower, Douglas & Co."
"Do you know why he left them?"
"One of the clerks told me he was too fresh."
This was not quite correct, as it was Loammi who had designated his cousin in that way.
While they were waiting for breakfast, atraveling acquaintance from Boston, a Mr. Norwood, greeted them.
"Do you know," he said, "there's an English earl staying in this hotel?"
"Is there? Who is it?" asked Ezra Little, for he had a reverence for rank.
"It is the Earl of Windermere."
"Yes, I know of the title. Have you seen him?"
"No, but I saw his name on the register."
"I hope we shall meet him, pa," said Loammi. "It would be quite a feather in our cap if we could get introduced to him."
"I should like that myself, Loammi. Do you know if he is a young man, or an old one, Mr. Norwood?"
"He is a young man, under thirty."
"We will look for him at breakfast."
When they took their seats at the table, Mr. Little said to the waiter: "I hear there's an earl staying at the hotel?"
"Yes, sir."
"Could you point him out to us?"
The waiter looked across the room.
"He generally sits at that table, sir, but he has not come in yet."
"Is any one of his family with him?"
"I don't rightly know. There's a boy goes round with him a good deal—about the age of this young gentleman."
"I will try to get acquainted with him, pa," said Loammi. "I guess that'll be the easiest way to get in with the earl."
The breakfast proceeded and was nearly over for Loammi and his father, when the waiter came up.
"There's the earl just coming in, sir," he said, "and the boy with him."
Both father and son looked toward the earl with eager curiosity. They did not at first take special notice of the boy. When they did, Loammi grasped his father's arm in excitement.
"The boy looks just like Scott," he said.
"It is Scott," pronounced his father, looking through his eyeglasses.
"Nonsense, pa, it can't be!" said Loammi. "It's ridiculous to think of Scott being in company with an earl."
"Ridiculous or not, it is a fact."
"Perhaps they are not together," said Loammi, who did not like to believe that his humble cousin was in such aristocratic company. "Is that theboy that usually goes around with the earl?" he asked, turning to the waiter.
"Yes, sir, it's the very identical boy," answered the waiter.
"I never heard of such a thing," gasped Loammi. "That boy's cheek seems too great for anything. But perhaps he is the earl's valet, though I don't know how he could have got the position."
"I don't know but he's the earl's brother," said the waiter. "Anyhow, they're pretty thick. They went out riding together yesterday afternoon."
"He isn't the earl's brother," said Loammi, emphatically. "He's a—a relative of ours."
"Lor' now, you don't mean it! Didn't you know he was traveling with the earl?"
"No," answered Loammi; "I haven't seen much of him lately."
"The earl seems to think everything of him. They're always together."
"I never was so astonished in my life, pa," said Loammi, when the waiter had left them.
"It does seem singular."
"I'll get Scott to introduce me."
"I thought you didn't care to take any more notice of him."
"No more I did, but as he's intimate with an earl that makes a difference."
Mr. Little and his son lingered at the table till they saw the earl and his young companion rise. Then they followed them out.
Scott had not noticed the presence of Loammi and his father, but it was soon made evident to him.
As he was walking with the earl, suddenly he felt a tap on his arm, and looking round espied Loammi.
"Loammi!" he exclaimed, in surprise.
"Yes, I am here with pa. I was surprised to find you here."
Scott smiled.
"I have been traveling for some weeks," he said.
"Here's pa."
"How do you do, Scott? I hope you are well," said Ezra Little, graciously.
"Very well, thank you."
The earl, noticing that Scott had met acquaintances, walked slowly on.
"Won't you introduce us to your friend, Scott?" asked Loammi, eagerly.
"If he is willing," Scott said.
He went up to the earl and acquainted him with his cousin's request.
"Are they friends of yours, Scott?"
"I can't say they are friends, but they are my cousins. I have told you of them. They are my cousin, Loammi Little, and his father."
"Do you think they know who I am?"
"Yes. It is probably your title that makes them desirous of an introduction."
"Very well."
In answer to a look, Loammi and his father approached.
"My lord," said Scott, formally, "let me present to you Mr. Ezra Little and his son, Loammi. They are relatives of mine."
"I am glad to meet any relative of my young friend, Mr. Walton," said the earl, with dignity.
"My lord earl," said Mr. Little, with a profound bow, "I am indeed honored in making your acquaintance."
"And I, too," murmured Loammi.
"I am an Englishman, like yourself, my lord."
"And so, I believe, is my young friend, Scott," said the nobleman.
"Yes," said Scott, "but I have nearly forgotten it. I intend to be an American citizen."
"I shall never forget that I am an Englishman," observed Ezra Little.
"Gentlemen," said the earl, "will you excuse me? I have a letter to write."
"Certainly, my lord."
"I will meet you in half an hour, Scott," said the earl, familiarly. "You will find me in the reading room."
"How on earth did you get so thick with the earl, Scott?" asked Loammi.
"He seemed to take a fancy to me."
"Are you with him a good deal?"
"Yes."
"How can you afford to stay at this expensive hotel?" asked Ezra Little.
"I am traveling on business."
"For what house?"
"Please excuse my mentioning just yet."
"How long are you going to stay here?"
"I expected to leave this morning, but I have a letter from my employers with instructions that will detain me here a day or two longer. But how do you and Loammi happen to be here?"
"I have business in Buffalo."
Scott smiled.
"So have I," he said.
"I intend to make large purchases from the assignees of Frost, Burks & Co."
"I shall probably meet you both this evening."
As Scott walked away, Loammi said, enviously: "Did you notice how well Scott was dressed?"
"I didn't notice."
"He doesn't look much like the poor relation we took in some months ago. But it won't last."
Scott found a letter awaiting him at the hotel, of the following purport:
"We are notified that the stock of Frost, Burks & Co., of Buffalo, will be sold at a great sacrifice. We append a list of articles that we would like to buy if they will be sold at, say sixty per cent. of the ordinary wholesale price. At that rate, you may buy without limit, or you can take the whole stock if a commensurate reduction should be made."Tower, Douglas & Co."
"We are notified that the stock of Frost, Burks & Co., of Buffalo, will be sold at a great sacrifice. We append a list of articles that we would like to buy if they will be sold at, say sixty per cent. of the ordinary wholesale price. At that rate, you may buy without limit, or you can take the whole stock if a commensurate reduction should be made.
"Tower, Douglas & Co."
Scott went to Buffalo in the same train as Ezra Little, but in a different car, so that the latter did not know his humble cousin was on board. The earl went along, and proposed to look about the city while his young companion was engaged.
Scott took a cab, feeling that the emergency justified it, while Ezra Little waited a considerable time for a horse car. The result was that Scottwas with the assignee twenty minutes before Mr. Little arrived.
When Scott was introduced, the assignee, a gentleman named Clark, regarded him impatiently.
"I've no time to waste with boys," he said. "I am very busy."
"I am a boy," replied Scott, quietly, "but I represent the firm of Tower, Douglas & Co., of New York. There is my card."
"Is this really so?" asked the assignee, almost incredulous.
"You can rely upon it. What could be my object in making a false representation?"
"Very well, Mr. Walton. Are you empowered to purchase?"
"Yes."
"To what extent?"
"That depends on the terms I obtain. I may take your whole stock if there's sufficient inducement."
The assignee looked amazed.
"We shall certainly prefer to sell the entire stock to one purchaser."
"And will you make it worth my while?"
"What terms do you offer?"
"Half cash, half on thirty days."
"That will be satisfactory."
"Have you an inventory?"
"Yes."
Scott looked it carefully over. He was offered even better terms than his employers had stipulated for.
At the end of half an hour he had agreed to purchase the entire stock, conditioned upon the amount and quality of goods being as represented. He knew enough of the value of goods to feel that he had made a good bargain for the firm.
Meanwhile, Ezra Little and Loammi had arrived.
"There's a gentleman with Mr. Clark," said a clerk.
"Please carry in my card," ordered Mr. Little, pompously.
He felt that his name would secure respectful consideration.
But he had to wait half an hour. Then, on entering the office, he found to his surprise Scott ahead of him. He nodded to him coolly, and in a tone of some importance said: "Mr. Clark, I have come to look over your stock, and if I find it and your terms satisfactory I may make considerable purchases."
"I am sorry to disappoint you, Mr. Little," said the assignee, referring to the card in his hand, "but you are too late."
"How am I too late?"
"I have sold the entire stock to one party."
Ezra Little looked astonished and disappointed.
"May I ask to whom you have sold?" he inquired.
"To this young man."
"To that boy?" ejaculated Ezra Little.
"Yes; he represents the great New York firm of Tower, Douglas & Co."
"That is a mistake," said Ezra, indignantly. "He is an impostor. He was employed by them, but has been discharged."
The assignee looked alarmed.
"What do you say to this, Mr. Walton?" he asked.
"Simply that it is false," returned Scott. "If you have any doubts as to my being in the employ of the firm, you can look at this letter received this morning."
The assignee read the letter given at the commencement of this chapter.
"Mr. Little, you appear to be mistaken," he said, severely. "What can be your object intrying to discredit Mr. Walton, I will not inquire, though I can guess at it. If you wish to negotiate for any of the stock I refer you to him. He obtained it on such terms that he can afford to deal with you liberally."
This was gall and wormwood to Mr. Little, but he wished to make his journey pay, and broached the subject to Scott.
"Will you sell me what I want at the price you paid?" he asked.
"No, Mr. Little, I cannot do that, but I will sell at five per cent. profit."
When Mr. Little made an examination of prices, he ascertained that even on these terms he would make a better bargain than he anticipated. The result was that he bought five thousand dollars' worth of goods from Scott, and felt sure that even then he would clear more than a thousand dollars on his purchases.
As he left the office with Scott, Loammi questioned him eagerly.
"Did you buy many goods of the assignee?" he inquired.
"No."
"But I thought you meant to."
"I bought of Scott."
"What has he to do with it?"
"I found that he had bought the entire stock before I got into the office."
"What do you mean, pa? You're joking, ain't you?"
"No."
"Of course, Mr. Little," said Scott, "the sale must be ratified by my firm. I will, however, make a special request to that effect, and I don't anticipate that they will interfere with my arrangements."
"Are you going back to Niagara on the next train, Scott?" asked Ezra Little.
"No; I must wire the firm of what I have done. Then I have agreed to meet the earl at the Mansion House, where we shall dine."
"When will you return to New York?"
"Probably I shall take the night train."
"I shall wait a day or two. I have not yet had a chance to see the falls."
"Then if I don't see you again, Cousin Ezra, I shall bid you good-by."
"Good-by, Scott. If you leave your present employer at any time I will give you five dollars a week and your board."
"Thank you," said Scott, with a smile.
He was not conceited, but it struck him that one who had been intrusted with such a responsible commission was worth considerably more than this small sum.
"How have you succeeded, Scott?" asked the earl, when they met at the Mansion House.
Scott told him.
"How much will your purchases amount to, Scott?"
"Probably to eighty thousand dollars."
"It is wonderful. And you are only seventeen years old!"
"I believe so," said Scott, smiling.
"I am not sure but it would be for my advantage to go into business with you."
"What shall be the style of the firm? The Earl of Windermere & Co.?"
"We will consider that. When do you propose to return to New York?"
"This evening."
"I'm sorry I can't go with you. I shall start in three days, and when I take up my residence in New York it will be at the Windsor Hotel. Will you call and see me there?"
"With the greatest pleasure, my lord."
"You mean Mr. Grant."
"Well, Mr. Grant. But when others are present I will use your title."
Some time during the next day Scott reached New York. He lost no time in calling at the store, and reported his business operations in detail.
He was received with great cordiality.
"Scott," said Mr. Tower, "you have quite surpassed my expectations. I own I had some hesitation about intrusting you with the Buffalo business, but you have managed it to my satisfaction."
Scott told him of his transaction with Mr. Little.
"I told him it would depend on your ratification," he said.
"I will ratify it," said Mr. Tower, "and the five per cent. shall be your commission."
"Thank you, Mr. Tower. You are very liberal. Two hundred and fifty dollars will make me feel rich."
"We will pay you five hundred dollars besides for your general services during the six weeks you have been absent, and your salary will be raised to forty dollars a week."
"I don't know how to thank you, Mr. Tower. It is only fair to tell you that I have an offer from another firm."
"Did they offer you more? What firm is it?"
"Ezra Little. He offered me five dollars a week and my board, in case I ever leave you."
Mr. Tower seemed much amused.
"You can accept the offer if you desire," he said.
"I prefer to stay with you, if you are willing," said Scott.
"You can stay as long as you like. We should be sorry to lose you."
Four days later, Scott received the following note:
"Dear Scott:I am at the Windsor Hotel. Can you call this evening?Windermere."
"Dear Scott:I am at the Windsor Hotel. Can you call this evening?Windermere."
Scott lost no time in responding to the invitation. He was greeted with the greatest cordiality.
"I am delighted to see you," said the earl. "I missed you more than I anticipated after you left me. Now I have a favor to ask."
"What is it?" asked Scott.
"I have taken a suite of rooms here, and I have set aside a bedroom for you. I shall be in the city for four weeks, and I want you with me."
"I am afraid you have forgotten that I am only a boy working for my living."
"No; I don't forget it. I respect you more for it. In fact, Scott, I want your company. Will you come?"
"Thank you, Mr. Grant—I can't refuse. I seem to forget that you are an earl."
"That is what I wish."
Just then there was a knock at the door, and a hall boy entered with a card.
The person whose name it bore came up directly afterward.
He brought a dinner invitation from a well-known social club. The earl good-naturedly accepted.
The visitor regarded Scott inquiringly.
"Is this young gentleman one of your party, my lord?" he asked.
"Yes, sir. It is my young friend, Mr. Scott Walton."
"Then I am authorized to include him in the invitation."
Scott looked at the earl inquiringly.
"I accept for him," said the earl, promptly.
He smiled when his visitor left the room.
"You are in for it, Scott," he said. "I advise you to order a dress suit at once, if you are not provided with one."
"Won't the club think they are imposed upon when they find that I am only a humble business boy?"
"You are not invited on that ground, but as my intimate friend."
"Then, Mr. Grant, I will throw the whole responsibility upon you," said Scott, smiling.
"I will accept it. How will it do for me to dub you Sir Scott Walton?"
"It might embarrass me in my business."
"True. Then you shall be plain Mr. Walton. Mind that you get a handsome suit. It will be expected, as you belong to my party."
One of the leading New York dailies, a few days later, in describing the dinner, after giving the earl's modest little speech, continued thus: "The earl was accompanied by a handsome young gentleman, Mr. Scott Walton, who is understood to be a near relative. Mr. Walton was called upon for a speech, but modestly declined."
When Ezra Little read this paragraph, he was immensely surprised.
"Read that, Loammi," he said.
"What a humbug that boy is!" said Loammi, much disgusted.
"Humbug or not, he has got into the best society and his success reflects credit upon us, his cousins."
"The idea of his palming himself off as a relative of the earl!"
"Perhaps he didn't. It was probably a conjecture of the reporter."
"I don't believe it. I feel sure Scott put him up to it. I'd like to tell him it is all a mistake."
"I won't allow you to do anything of the sort. As the matter stands, it may lead to the supposition that we also are related to the earl."
This seemed such a clever idea that Ezra determined to act upon it.
When one of his business acquaintances inquired whether Scott was really a connection of the earl's, he answered: "He is related to me, and there may also be a distant relationship to the earl. Probably the earl authorized the statement."
"Why don't you invite the earl to dinner?"
"Egad, I will!" exclaimed the merchant.
The next day Scott received the following note from Mr. Little:
"Dear Scott: Can you induce your friend, the earl, to accept an invitation to dinner at our house any day next week? It would give me great pleasure, as an Englishman born, to pay some attention to so distinguished a representative of my native country. The choice of the day rests entirely with the earl. We shall be only too glad to receive him at any time."Sincerely, your cousin,Ezra Little."
"Dear Scott: Can you induce your friend, the earl, to accept an invitation to dinner at our house any day next week? It would give me great pleasure, as an Englishman born, to pay some attention to so distinguished a representative of my native country. The choice of the day rests entirely with the earl. We shall be only too glad to receive him at any time.
"Sincerely, your cousin,Ezra Little."
Scott showed this letter to the earl.
The earl smiled.
"I am glad," he said, "that I have been the means of so cordially uniting your cousin and yourself. Of course, I know that I am only invited as your friend."
Scott laughed.
"That didn't occur to me," he said.
"But as to accepting the invitation," continued the earl, "I am afraid I cannot. Should I accept Mr. Little's invitation, I should be overwhelmed by similar invitations from other parties."
"He will be terribly disappointed."
"I can partially make it up to him. I will secure a box at one of the theatres for some evening next week, and invite your uncle's family to join our party. That will involve no embarrassment."
"I am sure Cousin Ezra will be delighted to accept."
"Then I will make out an invitation which I will send by you. I will also invite Mr. Tower, your senior employer, as it may help you with him."
"It will, I am sure."
When Scott called at his uncle's house, Ezra inquired, eagerly: "Did you receive my note?"
"Yes, Cousin Ezra."
"Will the earl accept my invitation?"
"He would be glad to do so, but it would bring upon him so many others that it would prove embarrassing."
Mr. Little's face fell.
"Can't you influence him to accept?" he asked, with a degree of deference that was new to Scott.
"No, but he sends you an invitation."
Scott put in Mr. Little's hands this missive:
"The Earl of Windermere will be glad to have Mr. Ezra Little and family join him at the Star Theatre next Wednesday evening to see Henry Irving in 'Hamlet.'"R. S. V. P."
"The Earl of Windermere will be glad to have Mr. Ezra Little and family join him at the Star Theatre next Wednesday evening to see Henry Irving in 'Hamlet.'
"R. S. V. P."
"Tell the earl I shall be delighted, and so will Mrs. Little and Loammi," said the gratified merchant.
"I think, Cousin Ezra, etiquette requires a written acceptance."
"Tell me what to write, and I will copy it."
Scott did so, and succeeded in toning down the exuberant terms in which Mr. Little was at first inclined to couch his acceptance.
Mr. Tower, though a more sensible man, wasundeniably flattered by the invitation which Scott brought him. The earl had called at the store, so that the invitation wasen règle.
"Really, Scott," he said, "I shall feel obliged to raise your pay, since, in addition to your services here, you are introducing me into such distinguished society."
"I have no objection to that, Mr. Tower," said Scott, smiling.
"And you are really the guest of the earl at the Windsor Hotel? It is most extraordinary."
"I hope, Mr. Tower, you will appreciate me as much as the earl does."
"I do already, Scott, but for business reasons."
Mr. Little sent for reporters on two of the daily papers, and managed to have his presence in the earl's box prominently mentioned. Loammi was immensely gratified, and contrived to make himself conspicuous, while Scott modestly withdrew into the background.
Seth Lawton happened to reach New York on the morning following the theatre party. He read in amazement the paragraph which served to indicate the intimacy of his relatives with the earl.
"My young cousin is getting on," he said. "Well, he deserves it."
Mr. Lawton himself was modest, and was considerably surprised when Scott brought him a cordial invitation to dine at the Windsor with the earl.
"I don't know, Scott," he said. "I am an old-fashioned fellow. I am not used to stylish company."
"The earl will like you all the better on that account."
Scott was right. The Earl of Windermere could see the sterling gold in Cousin Seth's character, and treated him with a cordiality that pleased the old man.
"I never thought I should like an earl," he said afterward to Scott, "but your friend is a trump. He ought to be an American citizen."
Ezra Little was rather disgusted when he heard that Seth Lawton had been the earl's guest.
"You ought to have prevented it, Scott," he said. "What will the earl think of us when such a homely old fellow is introduced as a cousin?"
"Cousin Seth and the earl are great friends," replied Scott.
"Humph! I suppose he felt obliged to be polite to him. Seth is a mere clodhopper."
He would have been surprised to learn that the earl rated the "clodhopper" higher than himself.
From this time forth Ezra Little began to pay more attention to his poor relation. Scott's social and business success had surprised him. He was compelled, though reluctantly, to consider him a young man of promise.
He had no idea, however, how successful Scott was, and would have been very much amazed to learn the extent of his income.
One result, however, was to excite the jealousy of Loammi. He found that Scott dressed better than himself and had more command of money. Accordingly, he applied to his father for an increased allowance.
"What do you want more money for, Loammi?" asked his father, in a tone far from encouraging. "Don't you get a dollar a week?"
"What can I do with a dollar a week, pa?"
"It was more than I received at your age."
"You were a poor boy, while I am the son of a rich man."
"Ahem! not exactly rich, Loammi," said Ezra Little, complacently.
"Everybody calls you rich, pa."
"I have some money," admitted Mr. Little, cautiously, "but it is only by great care that I am moderately well off."
"Scott dresses better than I, and always has money in his pocket."
"He is very foolish to spend all his spare money on clothes. By the time he is twenty-one he won't have a cent laid up."
"At any rate, he has plenty of cash now. The fact is, pa, people are beginning to notice that he dresses better than I. Percy Shelton was walking with me the other day when we met Scott. 'I thought your cousin was poor,' he said. 'He only has his wages to depend upon,' I said. 'Then he must be pretty well paid,' he replied. 'I saw him at Patti's concert Tuesday night, occupying a three-dollar seat.' That made me feel awfully mean, for you wouldn't let me go to hear Patti."
"No; it would be throwing money away."
"All the fashionable people go. People that know you are rich think it strange not to see me there."
This argument had some effect on Mr. Little,who was anxious that his son should be admitted into fashionable society, but was too close to supply him with the necessary means.
"How much do you want, Loammi?" he asked, cautiously.
"Percy Shelton gets five dollars a week."
"Well, you won't," said his father, sharply. "You must think that I am made of money."
"I will try to make it do with four, pa."
"You won't get that either. I will give you two dollars a week, and that ought to be enough to satisfy you."
Loammi was not satisfied, but did not think it prudent to say any more just then.
There was one more concert by Patti, and he had hoped to attend. Indeed, he had told Percy that he expected to do so. He might, indeed, have bought a dollar ticket, but he was ashamed to be seen occupying a cheap seat.
Loammi had not much taste for music, and cared chiefly to attend the concert because most of his fashionable friends would be there.
In this dilemma he received unexpected assistance.
He met Scott one evening near the Fifth Avenue Hotel. His poor cousin was handsomely dressed,and looked to be on good terms with the world, as indeed he was.
"Good-evening, Loammi," he said.
"Good-evening, Scott. Are you still working for Tower, Douglas & Co.?"
"Oh, yes."
"Do they pay you well?"
"I am quite satisfied."
"How much do you get?"
"I would rather not tell."
"Percy Shelton told me he saw you at Patti's concert Tuesday evening."
"Yes, I was there."
"The tickets are rather high, ain't they?"
"I paid three dollars for mine."
"I want to go ever so much; but pa, though he is rolling in wealth, keeps me very close. How much do you think I get for my weekly allowance?"
"I couldn't guess."
"Only two dollars."
"But you have nothing to pay for board or clothes."
"That is true; but of course I can't go to hear Patti."
"Do you really want to go?"
"Of course I do. All my friends have attended."
"Then I will invite you to accompany me to-morrow evening."
"On three-dollar tickets?"
"Yes."
"You're a good fellow, Scott," said Loammi, overjoyed. "I always said so."
Scott smiled. He did not feel quite certain about that, but forbore to remind Loammi of certain recent experiences.
"When will you buy the tickets?"
"We will go now if you have time."
"All right."
Two days afterward Loammi fell in with Percy Shelton.
"I saw you at the concert last evening," said his friend.
"Yes."
"Was that your cousin with you?"
"Yes; I thought he would like to go."
"That was very kind of you," said Percy, who naturally concluded that Scott went by Loammi's invitation.
"Scott must get a good salary," thought Loammi. "I wonder how much he is paid."
But Scott preferred to keep this to himself. He knew that if Loammi were told, he would have frequent occasion to borrow, and he felt that it would be prudent in him to lay by a portion of his earnings.
It will be remembered that his friend, Justin Wood, had bought for him an interest in the invention of Mr. Babcock, advancing the inventor a sum of money, which put him on his feet.
Scott had not forgotten this, but forbore to look up Mr. Babcock, not having quite so much confidence in his success as the inventor himself.
One evening, however, as he was preparing to go out to walk, he met Babcock coming upstairs.
"Good-evening, Mr. Babcock," he said; "I am glad to see you."
"You were going out?" asked the inventor.
"Only for a walk. I shall be better pleased to receive a visit from you."
"Then I will accept your invitation. I thought you would look me up."
"I was afraid I might interfere with you. I presume you are busy."
"Yes, very busy, I am glad to say. And how is your friend, Mr. Wood?"
"At present he is out of the city."
"I should like to see him to thank him for his timely aid."
"Then it has been of service to you?"
"I should say so. I am succeeding beyond my anticipations."
"I am glad to hear that," said Scott, cordially.
"You have reason to be. Are you not my partner?"
"I believe I do own an interest in your discovery," said Scott, smiling.
"I see you do not attach much importance to it. You have not considered what your profits will amount to."
"No, Mr. Babcock, I have not thought of that at all. I only hoped that it would give you a fair living."
"It will do more. In fact, I have come to see you on business to-night. The parties who are manufacturing my window fastener have made me an offer for it. As you hold a one-third interest, I cannot accept without consulting you."
"How much do they offer, Mr. Babcock?"
Scott thought the sum might be a thousand dollars, and was very much surprised when the inventor answered: "Fifteen thousand dollars!"
"Is it possible?" he ejaculated.
"I thought you would be surprised. But it is true. That would give you five thousand dollars."
"I don't see how so small an article can pay so well."
"It is the small inventions that pay best. What do you say?"
"I want to consult your interest in the matter, Mr. Babcock. This would give you ten thousand dollars, to be sure, but it would throw you out of work."
"No. They engage me as superintendent of the manufactory at a salary of a hundred dollars per month."
"That is very good. In that case, if you think it wise to sell, I will agree."
"Then you can come to-morrow to see them, and conclude the bargain?"
"I shall be occupied, but I am sure my employers will give me leave of absence when I tell them the cause. But I don't think I ought to receive so large a sum as five thousand dollars. It was you who made the discovery."
"True, but I never should have reaped any benefit from it if you had not introduced me to your friend, Mr. Wood."
The next day the sale was made, and Scott foundhimself enriched by five thousand dollars. It seemed to him almost like a dream, from which he was afraid that he might awake.
"What would Mr. Little say if he knew?" thought Scott. "He did me a great favor when he discharged me from his store under a cloud."
One day, in looking over his trunk, Scott's eye fell on the sealed packet, referred to at the opening of this story, which was inscribed:
For my Son.To be opened a year from my death.
Singularly, the next day would be the anniversary of his father's passing away.
Scott had been so busy that he had given little thought to this packet. Now his interest was excited, and the next day he broke the seal, and read the letter which it contained.
It ran thus:
"My Dear Scott: When you open this packet twelve months will have passed, and I hope you will be in a position to live comfortably on your earnings. I assume that you will be in the employ of Ezra Little, who I understand is well to do, and who will not, I think, turn his back upon a needy relative."You will find nothing in this letter that will provide for your future prospects. Indeed, I wish to pass on to you a debt which I am unable to pay."During early manhood, I received many favors from a young man named Robert Kent, who afterward emigrated to America. I heard a report two years since that he had been unfortunate, and that his family was suffering. I should like to be able to help him in memory of the past, but my life is nearing the end. Should you ever fall in with Mr. Kent or his family, if you can do anything for them on your father's account, I shall be very glad. It may seem strange that I give you this legacy of duty, considering that I leave you well-nigh penniless, but I have confidence that sooner or later you will succeed, and I hope you may be in a position to help my early friend or his family."The only clew I can give you as to my old friend's whereabouts is, that he was an artist by profession, and that he went to New York. Probably, if living, he is in that city, or near it. You may not be in a position to help him, but I should like to have you make his acquaintance, and tell him that I have not forgotten him or his past kindness."
"My Dear Scott: When you open this packet twelve months will have passed, and I hope you will be in a position to live comfortably on your earnings. I assume that you will be in the employ of Ezra Little, who I understand is well to do, and who will not, I think, turn his back upon a needy relative.
"You will find nothing in this letter that will provide for your future prospects. Indeed, I wish to pass on to you a debt which I am unable to pay.
"During early manhood, I received many favors from a young man named Robert Kent, who afterward emigrated to America. I heard a report two years since that he had been unfortunate, and that his family was suffering. I should like to be able to help him in memory of the past, but my life is nearing the end. Should you ever fall in with Mr. Kent or his family, if you can do anything for them on your father's account, I shall be very glad. It may seem strange that I give you this legacy of duty, considering that I leave you well-nigh penniless, but I have confidence that sooner or later you will succeed, and I hope you may be in a position to help my early friend or his family.
"The only clew I can give you as to my old friend's whereabouts is, that he was an artist by profession, and that he went to New York. Probably, if living, he is in that city, or near it. You may not be in a position to help him, but I should like to have you make his acquaintance, and tell him that I have not forgotten him or his past kindness."
There was something more, but this was the substance of the letter. It was sufficient to interest Scott greatly.
"I wish I could find my father's friend," he reflected. "Though but a year has passed, I am amply able to pay the debt which my poor father owed. It would be pleasant, besides, to see one of his friends."
Naturally, Scott's first reference was to the New York directory. He found numerous Kents, but none that seemed likely to be Robert Kent. There was no artist of that name included in the list.
He thought of advertising, but this would involve a greater degree of publicity than he desired, and might lead to attempted imposture.
A month passed, and Scott was as perplexed as ever. To seek for any particular man in a crowded city like New York was like seeking a needle in a haystack. Besides, he might have left New York and gone to some other city, perhaps to the West.
Yet the man of whom he was in search was, at that very moment, occupying a shabby lodging on Bleecker Street, with his wife and two children. Moreover, his son, a boy a few months younger than Scott, was employed by Ezra Little, in hisEighth Avenue store, at a salary of three dollars a week.
Let us look in upon the Kents in their humble home.
The apartments consisted of three rooms, after the usual fashion of New York tenements. In the one large room, sitting in a big rocking-chair, was a man of middle age, with an expression of pain upon his delicate and refined features. He had been for some time the victim of a rheumatic affection which at times prevented him from working.
At half-past six the door opened, and a slender, dark-haired boy entered the room.
"How do you feel, father?" asked the boy, with a glance of sympathy toward his suffering parent.
"No better, Harold. It is very trying to be tied hand and foot by pain when I ought to be at work."
"If your father would worry less," said Mrs. Kent, a pleasant-looking woman, somewhat younger than her husband, "he would be more likely to get well."
"How can I help worrying, Clara? We are barely able to live when I can work. Now, with only Harold's wages coming in, it is difficult to tell how we shall come out. Did you ask Mr. Little if he would raise you, Harold?"
"Yes, father; but he only shook his head, and told me he could get plenty of boys at the wages he paid me, and perhaps for less."
"Yet he is rich," said Mr. Kent, bitterly. "He and his can live on the fat of the land."
"Has he a son?" asked Mrs. Kent.
"Yes, mother. He has one son—Loammi."
"Do you know him?"
"Yes, a little."
"What sort of a boy is he?"
"He is the most disagreeable boy I ever met. When he comes to the store he struts through it as if he were a prince."
"His father was poor enough in the old country."
"He is rich now."
"If I were rich now, I would only be too glad to help those who were less fortunate than myself. I had one friend in England, an artist, like myself, John Walton, who would have done the same. I wish he were in Ezra Little's place."
"Did he have a son named Scott."
"I think it probable. He married a Scott."
"Then he may be in New York. I have heard that there was a boy named Scott Walton in the store a year since."
"That must be his son," said Mr. Kent, eagerly. "Is he in the store now?"
"No. I understand that he and Loammi could not get along together, and he was discharged. But I was told that his father was dead."
"Poor Walton! I am sorry to hear it. It seems to me that it is those who best deserve to live who are summoned first."
"Harold," said his mother, "will you go to the grocery at the corner and get a quarter of a pound of tea and half a pound of butter?"
"Yes, mother, but—shall I pay for them?"
"Ask Mr. Muller to trust us till Saturday night, when you get your week's salary."
Harold took his hat and went downstairs.
The grocery store was kept by a stout, good natured German named Muller. It was a small place, but Herr Muller did a thriving trade.
Harold entered the store and preferred his request.
"And how is your poor father, Harold?" asked the grocer.
"He is in a good deal of pain from rheumatism, Mr. Muller."
"That is too bad. And how is business with him?"
"Very poor," answered Harold, soberly.
"That is bad. How much does he charge now for a portrait?"
"Ten dollars."
"I have been thinking I might get him to paint me. In a month, my wife and I will be twenty-five years married. That is what they call a silver wedding. Gretchen wants to have my portrait to show our friends on that occasion."
"My father will be very glad to paint it, Mr. Muller."
"But he can't work now."
"He will soon be able, I am sure."
"Well, if he can do it in time. We wouldn't like to be disappointed."
"I am sure he will do his best."
Harold carried home the welcome intelligence to his father. It made Mr. Kent somewhat more cheerful.
Ten dollars would help him not a little, though the time had been when he received seventy-five dollars for a portrait no better than he produced now for ten.
"Now, father, you must get well as soon as you can," said Harold.
"Ah, no need to say that."
"I am afraid your father will only worry the more if he finds that he is not soon in a condition to work."
"It seems so little to make a portrait for ten dollars," added Mrs. Kent.
"I should only be too glad if I could get all the work I could do at that price."
The new order somewhat cheered the poor artist. Once, in his early days, he was ambitious, and hoped for a reputation; but long since his ambitions had faded, and he was content and glad to work for a bare livelihood.
Even now, he would not have succeeded but for the small help his son was able to give him. Three dollars a week in many an unfortunate household in the metropolis plays an important part in the finances of a poor family.
But a new trial was in store for the Kent family. The next day, just before the store closed, Loammi visited it.
He wanted to ask a favor of his father, and as he walked through the store he looked about him with the air of a prince of the blood royal. It happened that as he passed along he managed to drop his handkerchief. Instead of picking it up himself, he signaled to Harold Kent to do it.
"Pick up my handkerchief, boy!" he said, in a lofty tone.
"I can't leave my place behind the counter."
"Pick it up, I say!" said Loammi, stamping his foot.
"That is not what I am hired to do," retorted Harold, indignant at the other's tone.
"What is your name?"
"Harold Kent."
"I won't forget it," said Loammi, significantly.
When, on Saturday night, Harold was paid his weekly wages he was told that he need not report for duty on Monday morning.
"Why is this?" asked Harold, in dismay.
"Loammi has complained of you," he was told.
It was too late to appeal to the superintendent, and Harold left the store, grief-stricken and discouraged.