The Cash Boy 7

The Cash Boy 7

"You don't know anything of his antecedents, I suppose?" said John,

carelessly.

 

"Only what he told me. His father and mother are dead, and he is obliged

to support himself and his sister. Did you notice anything familiar in

Frank's __EXPRESSION__?" asked Mr. Wharton.

 

"I don't know. I didn't observe him very closely."

 

"Whenever I look at Frank, I think of George. I suppose that is why I

have felt more closely drawn to the boy. I proposed to Mrs. Bradley that

the boy should have a room here, but she did not favor it. I think she

is prejudiced against him."

 

"Probably she is afraid he would be some trouble," replied John.

 

"If George's boy had lived he would be about Frank's age. It would have

been a great comfort to me to superintend his education, and watch him

grow up. I could not have wished him to be more gentlemanly or promising

than my young reader."

 

"Decidedly, that boy is in my way," said John Wade to himself. "I must

manage to get rid of him, and that speedily, or my infatuated uncle will

be adopting him."

 

"Of what disease did George's boy die, John?" asked Mr. Wharton.

 

"A sudden fever."

 

"I wish I could have seen him before he died. But I returned only to

find both son and grandson gone. I had only the sad satisfaction of

seeing his grave."

 

"Yes, he was buried in the family lot at Greenwood, five days before you

reached home."

 

"When I see men of my own age, surrounded by children and grandchildren,

it makes me almost envious," said Mr. Wharton, sadly. "I declare to

you, John, since that boy has been with me, I have felt happier and more

cheerful than for years."

 

"That boy again!" muttered John to himself. "I begin to hate the young

cub, but I mustn't show it. My first work will be to separate him from

my uncle. That will require consideration. I wonder whether the boy

knows that he is not Fowler's son? I must find out. If he does, and

should happen to mention it in my uncle's presence, it might awaken

suspicions in his mind. I must interview the boy, and find out what I

can. To enlist his confidence, I must assume a friendly manner."

 

In furtherance of this determination, John Wade greeted our hero very

cordially the next evening, when they met, a little to Frank's surprise.

 

When the reading terminated, John Wade said, carelessly:

 

"I believe, uncle, I will go out for a walk. I think I shall be better

for it. In what direction are you going, Frank?"

 

"Down Sixth Avenue, sir."

 

"Very good; I will walk along with you."

 

Frank and his companion walked toward Sixth Avenue.

 

"My uncle tells me you have a sister to support," said Wade, opening the

conversation.

 

"Yes, sir."

 

"Does your sister resemble you?" asked John Wade.

 

"No, sir! but that is not surprising, for----"

 

"Why is it not surprising?"

 

Frank hesitated.

 

"You were about to assign some reason."

 

"It is a secret," said our hero, slowly; "that is, has been a secret,

but I don't know why I should conceal it. Grace is not my sister. She

is Mrs. Fowler's daughter, but I am not her son. I will tell you the

story."

 

That story Frank told as briefly as possible. John Wade listened to it

with secret alarm.

 

"It is a strange story," he said. "Do you not feel a strong desire to

learn your true parentage?"

 

"Yes, sir. I don't know, but I feel as if I should some day meet the man

who gave me into Mrs. Fowler's charge."

 

"You have met him, but it is lucky you don't suspect it," thought John

Wade.

 

"I am glad you told me this story," said he, aloud.

 

"It is quite romantic. I may be able to help you in your search. But let

me advise you to tell no one else at present. No doubt there are parties

interested in keeping the secret of your birth from you. You must move

cautiously, and your chance of solving the mystery will be improved."

 

"Thank you, sir. I will follow your advice."

 

"I was mistaken in him," thought Frank. "I disliked him at first, but he

seems inclined to be my friend."

 

When Frank reached his lodging he found Jasper waiting up for him. He

looked thoughtful, so much so that Frank noticed it.

 

"You look as if you had something on your mind," Jasper.

 

"You have guessed right. I have read that letter."

 

He drew from his pocket a letter, which Frank took from his hands.

 

"It is from an uncle of mine in Ohio, who is proprietor of a weekly

newspaper. He is getting old, and finds the work too much for him. He

offers me a thousand dollars a year if I will come out and relieve him."

 

"That's a good offer, Jasper. I suppose you will accept it?"

 

"It is for my interest to do so. Probably my uncle will, after a while,

surrender the whole establishment to me."

 

"I shall be sorry to part with you, Jasper. It will seem very lonely,

but I think you ought to go. It is a good chance, and if you refuse it

you may not get such another."

 

"My uncle wants me to come on at once. I think I will start Monday."

 

Jasper saw no reason to change his determination, and on Monday morning

he started on his journey to Ohio.

 

Thus, at a critical moment in his fortunes, when two persons were

planning to injure him, he lost the presence and help of a valued

friend.

 

 

 

CHAPTER XIII

 

THE SPIDER AND THE FLY

 

 

"Uncle," said John Wade, "you spoke of inviting Frank Fowler to occupy

a room in the house. Why don't you do it? It would be more convenient to

you and a very good chance for him."

 

"I should like it," said Mr. Wharton, "but Mrs. Bradley did not seem to

regard it favorably when I suggested it."

 

"Oh, Mrs. Bradley is unused to boys, and she is afraid he would give her

trouble. I'll undertake to bring her around."

 

"I wish you would, John. I don't think Frank would give any trouble, and

it would enliven the house to have a boy here. Besides, he reminds me of

George, as I told you the other day."

 

"I agree with you, uncle," he said. "He does remind me a little of

George."

 

"Well, Mrs. Bradley, what do you think I have done?" asked John,

entering the housekeeper's room directly after his interview with his

uncle.

 

"I don't know, Mr. John," she answered.

 

"I have asked him to give that boy a room in the house."

 

"Are you carried away with him as well as your uncle?"

 

"Not quite. The fact is, I have a motive in what I am doing. I'll tell

you."

 

He bent over and whispered in her ear.

 

"I never should have thought of that."

 

"You see, our purpose is to convince my uncle that he is unworthy of his

favor. At present that would be rather difficult, but once get him into

the house and we shall have no trouble."

 

"I understand."

 

In due time John Wade announced to his uncle that the housekeeper had

withdrawn her objections to his plan.

 

"Then I'll tell him to-night," said Mr. Wharton, brightening up.

 

Shortly after Frank entered the library that evening Mr. Wharton made

the proposal.

 

"You are very kind, Mr. Wharton," he said. "I never thought of such a

thing."

 

"Then it is settled that you are to come. You can choose your own time

for coming."

 

"I will come to-morrow, sir."

 

"Very well," said Mr. Wharton, with satisfaction.

 

The next day, by special favor, Frank got off from the store two hours

earlier than usual. He bought at a Sixth Avenue basement store, a small,

second hand trunk for two dollars. He packed his scanty wardrobe into

the trunk, which, small as it was he was unable to fill, and had it

carried to Mr. Wharton's house.

 

He asked to see Mrs. Bradley, and she came to the door.

 

"I am glad to see you," she said graciously. "You may leave your trunk

in the hall and I will have it carried up by the servants."

 

"Thank you," said Frank, and he followed the housekeeper up the handsome

staircase.

 

"This is to be your room," said the housekeeper, opening the door of a

small chamber on the third floor.

 

"It looks very nice and comfortable," said Frank, looking about him with

satisfaction.

 

She left the room, and five minutes later our hero's modest trunk was

brought up and deposited in the room.

 

That evening Frank read to Mr. Wharton as usual.

 

When nine o'clock came he said:

 

"You need not read aloud any more, but if you see any books in my

library which you would like to read to yourself you may do so. In fact,

Frank, you must consider yourself one of the family, and act as freely

as if you were at home."

 

"How kind you are to me, Mr. Wharton," said Frank.

 

The next morning after Frank had left the house for his daily task, John

Wade entered the housekeeper's room.

 

"The boy is out of the way now, Mrs. Bradley," he said. "You had better

see if you have a key that will unlock his trunk."

 

The two conspirators went upstairs, and together entered Frank's room.

 

Mrs. Bradley brought out a large bunch of keys, and successively tried

them, but one after another failed to open it.

 

"That's awkward," said John Wade. "I have a few keys in my pocket. One

may possibly answer."

 

The housekeeper kneeled down, and made a trial of John Wade's keys. The

last one was successful. The cover was lifted, and the contents were

disclosed. However, neither John nor Mrs. Bradley seemed particularly

interested in the articles for after turning them over they locked the

trunk once more.

 

"So far so good," said John Wade. "We have found the means of opening

the trunk when we please."

 

"When do you expect to carry out your plan, Mr. John?"

 

"Two weeks from this time my uncle is obliged to go to Washington for a

few days on business. While he is gone we will spring the trap, and when

he comes back he will find the boy gone in disgrace. We'll make short

work of him."

 

 

 

CHAPTER XIV

 

SPRINGING THE TRAP

 

 

"I am going to give you a few days' vacation, Frank," said Mr. Wharton,

a fortnight later. "I am called to Washington on business. However, you

have got to feel at home here now."

 

"Oh, yes, sir."

 

"And Mrs. Bradley will see that you are comfortable."

 

"I am sure of that, sir," said Frank, politely.

 

When Frank returned at night, Mr. Wharton was already gone. John Wade

and the housekeeper seated themselves in the library after dinner, and

by their invitation our hero joined them.

 

"By the way, Frank," said John Wade, "did I ever show you this Russia

leather pocketbook?" producing one from his pocket.

 

"No, sir, I believe not."

 

"I bought it at Vienna, which is noted for its articles of Russia

leather."

 

"It is very handsome, sir."

 

"So I think. By the way, you may like to look at my sleeve-buttons. They

are of Venetian mosaic. I got them myself in Venice last year."

 

"They are very elegant. You must have enjoyed visiting so many famous

cities."

 

"Yes; it is very interesting."

 

John Wade took up the evening paper, and Frank occupied himself with a

book from his patron's library. After a while John threw down the paper

yawning, and said that he had an engagement. Nothing else occurred that

evening which merits record.

 

Two days later Frank returned home in his usual spirits. But at the

table he was struck by a singular change in the manner of Mrs. Bradley

and John Wade. They spoke to him only on what it was absolutely

necessary, and answered his questions in monosyllables.

 

"Will you step into the library a moment?" said John Wade, as they arose

from the table.

 

Frank followed John into the library, and Mrs. Bradley entered also.

 

"Frank Fowler," the enemy began, "do you remember my showing you two

evenings since a pocketbook, also some sleeve-buttons of Venetian

mosaic, expensively mounted in gold?"

 

"Certainly, sir."

 

"That pocketbook contained a considerable sum of money," pursued his

questioner.

 

"I don't know anything about that."

 

"You probably supposed so."

 

"Will you tell me what you mean, Mr. Wade?" demanded Frank, impatiently.

"I have answered your questions, but I can't understand why you ask

them."

 

"Perhaps you may suspect," said Wade, sarcastically.

 

"It looks as if you had lost them and suspected me of taking them."

 

"So it appears."

 

"You are entirely mistaken, Mr. Wade. I am not a thief. I never stole

anything in my life."

 

"It is very easy to say that," sneered John Wade. "You and Mrs. Bradley

were the only persons present when I showed the articles, and I suppose

you won't pretend that she stole them?"

 

"No, sir; though she appears to agree with you that I am a thief. I

never thought of accusing her," replied Frank.

 

"Mr. Wade," said the housekeeper, "I feel that it is my duty to insist

upon search being made in my room."

 

"Do you make the same offer?" asked John Wade, turning to Frank.

 

"Yes, sir," answered our hero, proudly. "I wish you to satisfy yourself

that I am not a thief. If you will come to my room at once, Mr. Wade,

you and Mrs. Bradley, I will hand you the key of my trunk."

 

The two followed him upstairs, exulting wickedly in his discomfiture,

which they had reason to forsee.

 

He handed his key to his artful enemy, and the latter bending over,

opened the trunk, which contained all our hero's small possessions.

 

He raised the pile of clothes, and, to Frank's dismay, disclosed the

missing pocketbook and sleeve-buttons in the bottom of the trunk.

 

"What have you got to say for yourself now, you young villain?" demanded

John Wade, in a loud voice.

 

"I don't understand it," Frank said, in a troubled tone. "I don't know

how the things came there. I didn't put them there."

 

"Probably they crept in themselves," sneered John.

 

"Someone put them there," said Frank, pale, but resolute; "some wicked

person, who wanted to get me into trouble."

 

"What do you mean by that, you young vagabond?" demanded John Wade,

suspiciously.

 

"I mean what I say," he asserted. "I am away all day, and nothing is

easier than to open my trunk and put articles in, in order to throw

suspicion on me."

 

"Look here, you rascal!" said John Wade, roughly. "I shall treat you

better than you deserve. I won't give you over to the police out of

regard for my uncle, but you must leave this house and never set foot in

it again. It will be the worse for you if you do."

 

John Wade and the housekeeper left the room, and our hero was left to

realize the misfortune which had overwhelmed him.

 

Frank arose at an early hour the next morning and left the house. It was

necessary for him to find a new home at once in order to be at the

store in time. He bought a copy of the Sun and turned to the advertising

columns. He saw a cheap room advertised near the one he had formerly

occupied. Finding his way there he rang the bell.

 

The door was opened by a slatternly-looking woman, who looked as if she

had just got up.

 

"I see by the Sun you have a room to let," said Frank.

 

"Yes; do you want to see it now?"

 

"I should like to."

 

"Come upstairs and I will show you the room."

 

The room proved to be small, and by no means neat in appearance, but

the rent was only a dollar and a quarter a week, and Frank felt that he

could not afford to be particular, so he quickly closed the bargain.

 

The next day, about eleven o'clock in the forenoon, he was surprised at

seeing Mrs. Bradley enter the store and thread her way to that part of

the counter where her nephew was stationed. She darted one quick look at

him, but gave him no sign of recognition. His heart sank within him, for

he had a presentiment that her visit boded fresh evil for him.