The Cash Boy 8

The Cash Boy 8

CHAPTER XV

 

FROM BAD TO WORSE

 

 

Frank's misgivings were not without good cause. The housekeeper's call

at the store was connected with him. How, will be understood from a

conversation which took place that morning between her and John Wade.

 

"It's a relief to get that boy out of the house, Mrs. Bradley," he said

at the breakfast table.

 

"That it is, Mr. John," she replied. "But he'll be trying to get back,

take my word for it."

 

"He won't dare to," said John Wade, incredulously. "I told him if he

came near the house I would give him up to the police."

 

"I am afraid he will write to your uncle. He's bold enough for

anything."

 

"I didn't think of that," said John, thoughtfully.

 

"Do you know his handwriting, Mrs. Bradley?"

 

"I think I should know it."

 

"Then if any letters come which you know to be from him, keep them back

from my uncle."

 

"What shall I do with them?"

 

"Give them to me. I don't want my uncle worried by his appeals."

 

"Your uncle seems to be very attached to him. He may go to the store to

see him."

 

"That is true. I should not like that. How shall we prevent it, that's

the question."

 

"If Gilbert & Mack knew that he was not honest they would discharge

him."

 

"Exactly," said John Wade; "and as probably he would be unable to get

another situation, he would be compelled to leave the city, and we

should get rid of him. I commend your shrewdness, Mrs. Bradley. Your

plan is most excellent."

 

John Wade had more reasons than the housekeeper knew of for desiring the

removal of our young hero from the city--reasons which the reader has

probably guessed. There was a dark secret in his life connected with a

wrong done in years past, from which he hoped some day to reap personal

benefit. Unconsciously Frank Fowler stood in his way, and must be

removed. Such was his determination.

 

"I am going out this morning," said the housekeeper. "I will make it in

my way to call at Gilbert & Mack's. My nephew is a salesman there, as I

have told you. I will drop a word in his ear, and that will be enough to

settle that boy's hash."

 

"Your language is professional, Mrs. Bradley," said John Wade, laughing,

"but you shouldn't allude to hash in an aristocratic household. I shall

be glad to have you carry out your plan."

 

"I hope you'll speak to your uncle about my nephew, Mr. John. He gets

very poor pay where he is."

 

"I won't forget him," said John, carelessly.

 

In his heart he thought Thomas Bradley a very low, obtrusive fellow,

whom he felt by no means inclined to assist, but it was cheap to make

promises.

 

The reader understands now why Mrs. Bradley made a morning call at

Gilbert & Mack's store.

 

She knew at what part of the counter her nephew was stationed, and made

her way thither at once. He did not at first recognize her, until she

said:

 

"Good-morning, Thomas."

 

"Good-morning, aunt. What brings you here this morning? Any good news

for me? Has the old gentleman come around and concluded to do something

handsome?"

 

"Mr. Wharton is not in the city. He has gone to Washington. But that

isn't what I came about this morning. You remember that boy who has been

reading to Mr. Wharton?"

 

"One of our cash-boys. Yes; there he is, just gone by."

 

"Well, he has stolen Mr. John's pocketbook and some jewelry belonging to

him."

 

"What have you done about it? What does Mr. Wharton say?"

 

"He's away from home. He doesn't know yet. Mr. John gave him a lecture,

and ordered him to leave the house."

 

"Does he admit that he took the things?"

 

"No; he denied it as bold as brass, but it didn't do him any good. There

were the things in his trunk. He couldn't get over that."

 

Thomas fastened a shrewd glance on his aunt's face, for he suspected the

truth.

 

"So you've got rid of him?" he said. "What do you propose to do next?"

 

"Mr. John thinks your employer ought to know that he is a thief."

 

"Are you going to tell them?"

 

"I want you to do it."

 

"You must tell them yourself, aunt. I shan't."

 

"Then introduce me to Mr. Gilbert, Thomas, and I'll do it."

 

"Follow me, aunt."

 

He led his aunt to the rear of the store, where Mr. Gilbert was

standing.

 

"Mr. Gilbert," he said, "allow me to introduce my aunt, Mrs. Bradley."

 

The housekeeper was courteously received, and invited to be seated. She

soon opened her business, and blackened poor Frank's character as she

had intended.

 

"Really, Mrs. Bradley, I am sorry to hear this," said Mr. Gilbert. "You

think there is no doubt of the boy's guilt?"

 

"I am sorry to say that I have no doubt at all," said the housekeeper,

hypocritically.

 

"Mr. Mack and myself have had a very good opinion of him. He is faithful

and prompt."

 

"Of course, sir, you will retain him in your employ if you are willing

to take the risk, but I thought it my duty to put you on your guard."

 

"I am obliged to you, Mrs. Bradley; though, as I said, I regret to find

that my confidence in the boy has been misplaced."

 

Late in the afternoon, Frank was called to the cashier's desk.

 

"I am directed by Mr. Gilbert to say that your services will not be

required after to-day," he said. "Here are the week's wages."

 

"Why am I discharged? What have I done?" demanded Frank, while his heart

sank within him.

 

"I don't know. You must ask Mr. Gilbert," answered the cashier.

 

"I will speak to him, at any rate," and Frank walked up to the senior

partner, and addressed to him the same question.

 

"Can you not guess?" asked Mr. Gilbert, sternly.

 

"I can guess that a false accusation has been brought against me," said

Frank.

 

"A respectable lady has informed me that you are not honest. I regret

it, for I have been pleased with your diligence. Of course, I cannot

retain you in my employ."

 

"Mr. Gilbert," said Frank, earnestly, "the charge is false. Mrs. Bradley

is my enemy, and wishes me harm. I don't understand how the things came

into my trunk, but I didn't put them there."

 

"I hope you are innocent, but I must discharge you. Business is dull

now, and I had decided to part with four of my cash-boys. I won't pass

judgment upon you, but you must go."

 

Frank bowed in silence, for he saw that further entreaty would be vain,

and left the store more dispirited than at any moment since he had been

in the city.

 

Ten days Frank spent in fruitless efforts to obtain a place.

 

All this time his money steadily diminished. He perceived that he would

soon be penniless. Evidently, something must be done. He formed two

determinations. The first was to write to Mr. Wharton, who, he thought,

must now have returned from Washington, asserting his innocence and

appealing to him to see Gilbert & Mack, and re-establish him in their

confidence. The second was, since he could not obtain a regular place,

to frequent the wharves and seek chances to carry bundles. In this

way he might earn enough, with great economy, to pay for his board and

lodging.

 

One morning the housekeeper entered the library where John Wade sat

reading the daily papers.

 

"Mr. John," she said, holding out a letter, "here is a letter from that

boy. I expected he would write to your uncle."

 

John Wade deliberately opened the letter.

 

"Sit down, Mrs. Bradley, and I will read the letter aloud."

 

It will be only necessary to quote the concluding sentences:

 

 

"'I hope, Mr. Wharton, you will not be influenced against me by what

Mrs. Bradley and your nephew say. I don't know why it is, but they are

my enemies, though I have always treated them with respect. I am afraid

they have a desire to injure me in your estimation. If they had not

been, they would have been content with driving me from your house,

without also slandering me to my employers, and inducing them to

discharge me. Since I was discharged, I have tried very hard to get

another place, but as I cannot bring a recommendation from Gilbert &

Mack, I have everywhere been refused. I ask you, Mr. Wharton to consider

my situation. Already my small supply of money is nearly gone, and I do

not know how I am to pay my expenses. If it was any fault of mine that

had brought me into this situation, I would not complain, but it seems

hard to suffer when I am innocent.

 

"'I do not ask to return to your house, Mr. Wharton, for it would not

be pleasant, since your nephew and Mrs. Bradley dislike me, but I have a

right to ask that the truth may be told to my employers, so that if

they do not wish me to return to their service, they may, at least,

be willing to give me a recommendation that will give me a place

elsewhere."'

 

 

"I must prevent the boy communicating with my uncle, if it is a possible

thing. 'Strike while the iron is hot,' I say."

 

"I think that is very judicious, Mr. John. I have no doubt you will know

how to manage matters."

 

John Wade dressed himself for a walk, and drawing out a cigar, descended

the steps of his uncle's house into the street.

 

He reached Fifth Avenue, and walked slowly downtown. He was about

opposite Twenty-eighth Street, when he came face to face with the

subject of his thoughts.

 

"Where are you going?" John Wade demanded sternly.

 

"I don't know that I am bound to answer your question," answered Frank,

quietly, "but I have no objection. I am going to Thirty-ninth Street

with this bundle."

 

"Hark you, boy! I have something to say to you," continued John Wade,

harshly. "You have had the impudence to write to my uncle."

 

"What did he say?"

 

"Nothing that you would like to hear. He looks upon you as a thief."

 

"You have slandered me to him, Mr. Wade," he said, angrily. "You might

be in better business than accusingly a poor boy falsely."

 

"Hark you, young man! I have had enough of your impudence. I will give

you a bit of advice, which you will do well to follow. Leave this city

for a place where you are not known, or I may feel disposed to shut you

up on a charge of theft."

 

"I shall not leave the city, Mr. Wade," returned Frank, firmly. "I shall

stay here in spite of you," and without waiting for an answer, he walked

on.

 

 

 

CHAPTER XVI

 

AN ACCOMPLICE FOUND

 

 

No sooner had John Wade parted from our hero than he saw approaching him

a dark, sinister-looking man, whom he had known years before.

 

"Good-morning, Mr. Wade," said the newcomer.

 

"Good-morning, Mr. Graves. Are you busy just now?"

 

"No, sir; I am out of employment. I have been unfortunate."

 

"Then I will give you a job. Do you see that boy?" said John Wade,

rapidly.

 

"Yes, I see him."

 

"I want you to follow him. Find out where he lives, and let me know this

evening. Do you understand?"

 

"I understand. You may rely upon me, sir," answered Nathan Graves; and

quickening his pace, he soon came within a hundred feet of our hero.

 

After fulfilling his errand, Frank walked downtown again, but did not

succeed in obtaining any further employment. Wherever he went, he was

followed by Graves. Unconsciously, he exhausted the patience of that

gentleman, who got heartily tired of his tramp about the streets. But

the longest day will come to an end, and at last he had the satisfaction

of tracking Frank to his humble lodging. Then, and not till then, he

felt justified in leaving him.

 

Nathan Graves sought the residence of John Wade. He rang the bell as the

clock struck eight.

 

"Well, what success?" asked Wade, when they met.

 

"I have tracked the boy. What more can I do for you?" asked Graves.

 

"I want to get him away from the city. The fact is--I may as well tell

you--my uncle has taken a great fancy to the boy, and might be induced

to adopt him, and cut me off from my rightful inheritance. The boy is

an artful young rascal, and has been doing all he could to get into the

good graces of my uncle, who is old and weak-minded."

 

It was nine o'clock when Nathan Graves left the house, John Wade himself

accompanying him to the door.

 

"How soon do you think you can carry out my instructions?" asked Wade.

 

"To-morrow, if possible."

 

"The sooner the better."

 

"It is lucky I fell in with him," said Nathan Graves to himself, with

satisfaction, as he slowly walked down Fifth Avenue. "It's a queer

business, but that's none of my business. The main thing for me to

consider is that it brings money to my purse, and of that I have need

enough."

 

Graves left the house richer by a hundred dollars than he entered it.

 

It was eleven o'clock on the forenoon of the next day when Frank walked

up Canal Street toward Broadway. He had been down to the wharves

since early in the morning, seeking for employment. He had offered his

services to many, but as yet had been unable to secure a job.

 

As he was walking along a man addressed him:

 

"Will you be kind enough to direct me to Broadway?"

 

It was Nathan Graves, with whom Frank was destined to have some

unpleasant experiences.

 

"Straight ahead," answered Frank. "I am going there, and will show you,

if you like."

 

"Thank you, I wish you would. I live only fifteen or twenty miles

distant," said Graves, "but I don't often come to the city, and am not

much acquainted. I keep a dry-goods store, but my partner generally

comes here to buy goods. By the way, perhaps you can help me about the

errand that calls me here today."

 

"I will, sir, if I can," said Frank, politely.

 

"My youngest clerk has just left me, and I want to find a successor--a

boy about your age, say. Do you know any one who would like such a

position?"

 

"I am out of employment myself just now. Do you think I will suit?"

 

"I think you will," said Mr. Graves.

 

"You won't object to go into the country?"

 

"No, sir."

 

"I will give you five dollars a week and your board for the present. If

you suit me, your pay will be raised at the end of six months. Will that

be satisfactory?" asked his companion.

 

"Quite so, sir. When do you wish me to come?"

 

"Can you go out with me this afternoon?"

 

"Yes, sir. I only want to go home and pack up my trunk."

 

"To save time, I will go with you, and we will start as soon as

possible."

 

Nathan Graves accompanied Frank to his room, where his scanty wardrobe

was soon packed. A hack was called, and they were speedily on their way

to the Cortland Street ferry.

 

They crossed the ferry, and Mr. Graves purchased two tickets to

Elizabeth. He bought a paper, and occupied himself in reading. Frank

felt that fortune had begun to shine upon him once more. By and by, he

could send for Grace, and get her boarded near him. As soon as his wages

were raised, he determined to do this. While engaged in these pleasant

speculations, they reached the station.

 

"We get out here," said Mr. Graves.

 

"Is your store in this place?" asked Frank.

 

"No; it is in the next town."

 

Nathan Graves looked about him for a conveyance. He finally drove a

bargain with a man driving a shabby-looking vehicle, and the two took

their seats.

 

They were driven about six miles through a flat, unpicturesque country,

when they reached a branch road leading away from the main one.

 

It was a narrow road, and apparently not much frequented. Frank could

see no houses on either side.

 

"Is your store on this road?" he asked.

 

"Oh, no; but I am not going to the store yet. We will go to my house,

and leave your trunk."

 

At length the wagon stopped, by Graves' orders, in front of a gate

hanging loosely by one hinge.

 

"We'll get out here," said Graves.

 

Frank looked with some curiosity, and some disappointment, at his future

home. It was a square, unpainted house, discolored by time, and looked

far from attractive. There were no outward signs of occupation, and

everything about it appeared to have fallen into decay. Not far off was

a barn, looking even more dilapidated than the house.

 

At the front door, instead of knocking--there was no bell--Graves drew

a rusty key from his pocket and inserted it in the lock. They found

themselves in a small entry, uncarpeted and dingy.

 

"We'll go upstairs," said Graves.