The Cash Boy 5

The Cash Boy 5

"Indeed!" ejaculated the housekeeper in a tone of chilly displeasure,

and a sharp glance at Frank, which indicated no great amount of

cordiality. "Then, as I am intruding, I will take my leave."

 

There was something in her tone that made Frank feel uncomfortable.

 

 

 

CHAPTER IX

 

THE HOUSEKEEPER'S NEPHEW

 

 

"By no means," said Mr. Wharton, as the housekeeper was about to

withdraw; "don't imagine you are intruding. Come in and sit down."

 

"Thank you, sir," said Mrs. Bradley, in a measured tone. "You are very

considerate, I am sure, but if you'll excuse me, I won't come in this

evening."

 

"Mrs. Bradley has been with me a good many years," explained Mr.

Wharton, "and I dare say she feels a little disturbed at seeing another

occupy her place, even in a duty like this."

 

"I am afraid she will be offended with me, sir," said Frank.

 

"Oh, no; I will explain matters to her. Go on with your reading, Frank."

 

At half-past nine, Mr. Wharton took out his watch.

 

"It is getting late," he said. "I have no doubt you are tired and need

rest."

 

"I am not tired, sir."

 

"I believe in going to bed early. I shall seldom keep you later than

this. Do you think you can find your way out?"

 

"Yes, sir. When shall I come to-morrow evening?"

 

"A little before eight."

 

"I will be punctual."

 

Jasper was waiting for him, not wholly without anxiety, for it was very

unusual for Frank to be late.

 

"Well, Frank!" he exclaimed; "this is a pretty time for you to come

home. I began to think you had got into trouble. I was just going around

to the nearest station house in search of you."

 

"I was in quite a different place, Jasper."

 

Frank told his story, including an account of his engagement.

 

"So it seems I am to lose your company in the evening. I am sorry for

that, but I am glad you are so lucky."

 

"It was better than I expected," said Frank, with satisfaction.

 

"What sort of a man is this Mr. Wharton?" said Jasper.

 

"He is very kind and generous. I am lucky to have so good a friend.

There's only one thing that is likely to be disagreeable."

 

"What's that?"

 

"The housekeeper--her name is Mrs. Bradley--for some reason or other she

doesn't want me there."

 

"What makes you think so?"

 

"Her manner, and the way she speaks. She came in to read to Mr. Wharton

last evening, and didn't seem to like it because I had been taken in her

place."

 

"She is evidently jealous. You must take care not to offend her. She

might endeavor to have you dismissed."

 

"I shall always treat her politely, but I don't think I can ever like

her."

 

Meanwhile, the housekeeper, on leaving the library, had gone to her own

room in dudgeon.

 

"Mr. Wharton's a fool!" she muttered to herself.

 

"What possessed him to take this cash-boy from the streets, invite him

to dinner, and treat him as an honored guest, and finally to engage him

as a reader? I never heard of anything so ridiculous! Is this little

vagabond to take my place in the old man's good graces? I've been

slaving and slaving for twenty years, and what have I got by it? I've

laid up two thousand dollars; and what is that to provide for my old

age? If the old man would die, and remember me handsomely in his will,

it would be worth while; but this new favorite may stand in my way. If

he does I'll be revenged on him as sure as my name is Ulrica Bradley."

 

Here the area bell rang, and in a moment one of the housemaids entered

Mrs. Bradley's room.

 

"There's your nephew outside, ma'am, and wanting to see you."

 

"Tell him to come in," and the housekeeper's cold face became softer and

pleasanter in aspect as a young man of twenty entered and greeted her

carelessly.

 

"How are you, aunt?"

 

"Pretty well, Thomas," she answered. "You haven't been here for some

time."

 

"No. I've had a lot of work to do. Nothing but work, work, all the

time," he grumbled. "I wish I was rich."

 

"You get through at six o'clock, don't you?"

 

"Yes."

 

"I hope you spend your evenings profitably, Thomas?"

 

"I ain't likely to go on any sprees, aunt, if that's what you mean. I

only get twelve dollars a week."

 

"I should think you might live on it."

 

"Starve, you mean. What's twelve dollars to a young fellow like me when

he's got his board to pay, and has to dress like a gentleman?"

 

"You are not in debt, I hope, Thomas?" said Mrs. Bradley, uneasily.

 

"I owe for the suit I have on, and I don't know where I'm going to get

the money to pay for it."

 

He was dressed in a flashy style, not unlike what is popularly

denominated a swell. His coarse features were disfigured with unhealthy

blotches, and his outward appearance was hardly such as to recommend

him. But to him alone the cold heart of the housekeeper was warm. He was

her sister's son and her nearest relative. Her savings were destined

for him, and in her attachment she was not conscious of his disagreeable

characteristics. She had occasionally given him a five-dollar bill to

eke out what he termed his miserable pay, and now whenever he called he

didn't spare hints that he was out of pocket, and that a further gift

would be acceptable. Indeed, the only tie that bound him to his aunt was

a mercenary one.

 

But the housekeeper, sharp-sighted as she ordinarily was, did not detect

the secret motive of such attention she received from her nephew. She

flattered herself that he really loved her, not suspecting that he was

too selfish to love anybody but himself.

 

"Thomas," she said, with a sudden thought, "I may be able to help you

to an increase of your income. Mr. Wharton needs somebody to read to him

evenings. On my recommendation he might take you."

 

"Thank you, aunt, but I don't see it. I don't want to be worked to

death."

 

"But, think, Thomas," said his aunt, earnestly. "He is very rich. He

might take a fancy to you and remember you in his will."

 

"I wish somebody would remember me in his will. Do you really think

there's any chance of the old boy's doing something handsome for me?"

 

"That depends on yourself. You must try to please him."

 

"Well, I must do something. What'll he give?"

 

"I don't know yet. In fact, there's another reading to him just now."

 

"Then there's no chance for me."

 

"Listen to me. It's a boy he's picked up in the streets, quite unsuited

for the place. He's a cash-boy at Gilbert & Mack's. Why, that's where

you are," she added, with sudden recollection.

 

"A cash-boy from my own place? What's his name?"

 

"Fowler, I believe."

 

"I know him--he's lately come. How did he get in with the old man?"

 

"Mr. Wharton fell in the street, and he happened to be near, and helped

him home."

 

"You'll have to manage it, aunt."

 

"I'll see what I can do to-morrow. He ought to prefer my nephew to a

strange boy, seeing I have been twenty years in his service. I'll let

you know as soon as I have accomplished anything."

 

"I don't half like the idea of giving up my evenings. I don't believe I

can stand it."

 

"It is only for a little while, to get him interested in you."

 

"Maybe I might try it a week, and then tell him my health was failing,

and get him to do something else for me."

 

"At any rate, the first thing must be to become acquainted."

 

Thomas now withdrew, for he did not enjoy spending an evening with his

aunt, the richer by five dollars, half of which was spent before the

evening closed at a neighboring billiard saloon.

 

 

 

CHAPTER X

 

THE HOUSEKEEPER SCHEMING

 

 

If Mrs. Bradley had been wiser, she would have felt less confident of

her nephew's producing a favorable impression upon Mr. Wharton. She

resolved to open the subject at the breakfast table.

 

"I didn't know, Mr. Wharton," she commenced, "that you intended to

engage a reader."

 

"Nor did I propose to do so until last evening."

 

"I think--you'll excuse me for saying so--that you will find that boy

too young to suit you."

 

"I don't think so. He reads very clearly and distinctly."

 

"If I had known you thought of engaging a reader, I would have asked you

to engage my nephew."

 

"Indeed, I was not aware that you had a nephew in the city. Is he a

boy?"

 

"No; he is a young man. He was twenty years old last June."

 

"Is he unfavorably situated?"

 

"He has a place as salesman."

 

"With what firm?"

 

"Gilbert & Mack."

 

"Why, that is the same firm that employs my young friend. It is a good

firm."

 

"Perhaps it is, but my poor nephew receives a very small salary. He

finds it very hard to get along."

 

"Your nephew is young. He will be promoted if he serves his employers

well."

 

"Thomas would have been glad to read to you in the evening, sir," said

Mrs. Bradley, commencing the attack.

 

"But for my present engagement, I might have taken him," said Mr.

Wharton, politely.

 

"Have you engaged that boy for any length of time?"

 

"No; but it is understood that he will stay while I need him, and he

continues to suit me. I have a favorable opinion of him. Besides, he

needs the pay. He receives but three dollars a week as a cash-boy, and

has a sister to support as well as himself."

 

"I am sorry," she said in an injured tone. "I hope you'll excuse my

mentioning it, but I took the liberty, having been for twenty years in

your employ."

 

"To be sure! You were quite right," said her employer, kindly. "Perhaps

I may be able to do something for your nephew, though not that. Tell him

to come and see me some time."

 

"Thank you, sir," said the housekeeper.

 

There was one question she wanted to determine, and that was the amount

of compensation received by Frank. She did not like to inquire directly

from Mr. Wharton, but resolved to gain the information from our

hero. Some evenings later she had the opportunity. Mr. Wharton had an

engagement, and asked her to tell Frank, when he arrived that he was

released from duty. Instead of this she received him in the library

herself.

 

"Probably Mr. Wharton will not be at home this evening," she said. "If

he does not return in half an hour, you need not wait."

 

She took up her work, seated in Mr. Wharton's usual place, and Frank

remained ready for duty.

 

"Mr. Wharton tells me you have a sister," she said.

 

"Yes, ma'am."

 

"You must find it hard work to provide for her as well as yourself."

 

"I do, or rather I did till I came here."

 

"How much does Mr. Wharton pay you?" she asked, in an indifferent tone.

 

"Five dollars a week," answered Frank.

 

"You are lucky that you have such a chance," she said.

 

"Yes, ma'am; it is more than I earn, I know, but it is a great help to

me."

 

"And how much do you get as cash-boy?"

 

"Three dollars a week."

 

"So you actually receive nearly twice as much for a couple of hours in

the evening as for the whole day."

 

"Yes, ma'am."

 

"What a pity Thomas can't have this chance," she thought.

 

When it was nine o'clock, she said:

 

"You need not wait any longer. Mr. Wharton will not be home in time to

hear you read."

 

"Good-evening, Mrs. Bradley," said Frank.

 

"Good-evening!" she responded, coldly.

 

"That boy is in the way," she said to herself, when she was left

alone. "He is in my way, and Tom's way. I can see that he is artfully

intriguing for Mr. Wharton's favor, but I must checkmate him. It's odd,"

she resumed, after a pause, "but there is something in his face and

voice that seems familiar to me. What is it?"

 

 

* * * * *

 

 

The following evening the housekeeper received another visit from her

nephew.

 

"How do, aunt?" said Thomas Bradley, carelessly, as he entered the

housekeeper's room.

 

"Very well, thank you, Thomas. I am glad you are here. I have been

wanting to see you."

 

"The old man isn't going to do anything for me, is he?"

 

"How can you expect it so soon? He doesn't know you yet. How much do you

think he pays the cash-boy that reads to him in the evening?"

 

"I don't know."

 

"Five dollars a week."

 

"I wouldn't give up my evenings for that," he said.

 

"It isn't so much the pay, Thomas, though that would be a help. He might

take a fancy to you."

 

"That might pay better. When are you going to introduce me?"

 

"This evening; that is, I will ask Mr. Wharton if he will see you."

 

Mrs. Bradley entered the library, where Frank was engaged in reading

aloud.

 

"Excuse my interruption," she said; "but my nephew has just called, and

I should like to introduce him to you, if you will kindly receive him."

 

"Certainly, Mrs. Bradley," said Mr. Wharton. "Bring him in."

 

The housekeeper left the room, but speedily reappeared, followed by her

nephew, who seemed a little abashed.

 

"My nephew, Thomas Bradley, Mr. Wharton," said his aunt, by way of

introduction. "You have often heard me speak of Mr. Wharton, Thomas."

 

"How do you do, sir?" said Thomas awkwardly.

 

"Pray take a seat, Mr. Bradley. Your aunt has been long a member of my

family. I am glad to see a nephew of hers. I believe you are a salesman

at Gilbert & Mack's?"

 

"Yes, sir."

 

"Then you must know my young friend here?" pointing to Frank.

 

"How are you, Cash?" said Thomas, laughing, under the impression that he

had said something smart.

 

"Very well, Mr. Bradley," answered Frank, quietly.

 

"You see, that's all the name we call 'em in the store," said Thomas.

 

Mr. Wharton could not help thinking:

 

"How poorly this young man compares with my young friend. Still, as he

is Mrs. Bradley's nephew, I must be polite to him."

 

"Are there many cash-boys in your establishment, Mr. Bradley?"

 

"About a dozen. Ain't there, Fowler?"

 

"I believe so, Mr. Bradley."

 

"Gilbert & Mack do a good business, I should judge."

 

"Yes, they do; but that doesn't do us poor salesmen much good. We get

just enough to keep soul and body together."

 

"I am sorry to hear it," said Mr. Wharton.