Mark the Match Boy 25

Mark the Match Boy 25

"They don't keep but a few dollars in the drawer at one time."

 

"But didn't you tell me there was another drawer?"

 

"Yes; but that is always kept locked."

 

"Open it then."

 

"I have no key."

 

"Get one that will fit it then."

 

"I don't like to do that."

 

"Well, it's nothing to me," said Ralph, "only I should like to have

you belong to the club, and you can't unless you are able to pay the

initiation fee."

 

"I would like very much to belong," said Roswell, irresolutely.

 

"I know you would enjoy it. We have splendid times."

 

"I'll see what I can do to raise the money," said Roswell.

 

"That's the way to talk. You'll manage to get it some way."

 

It was a great temptation to Roswell. The more he thought of it, the

more he thought he should like to say that he was a member of the

Madison Club. He had a weak love of gentility, and he was persuaded

that it would improve his social standing. But he did not wish to adopt

the course recommended by Ralph if there was any other way of getting

the money. He determined, therefore, first to make the effort to obtain

the money from his mother on some pretext or other. By the time he

reached home, which was at an earlier hour than usual, he had arranged

his pretext.

 

"I am glad you are home early," said Mrs. Crawford.

 

"Yes, I thought I'd come home early to-night. Mother, I wish you'd let

me have four dollars."

 

"What for, Roswell?"

 

"I want to buy a new hat. This one is getting shabby."

 

Roswell's plan was, if he could obtain the four dollars from his

mother, to make up the extra dollar out of sales unaccounted for. As to

the failure to buy the hat, he could tell his mother that he had lost

the money, or make some other excuse. That thought did not trouble him

much. But he was not destined to succeed.

 

"I am sorry you are dissatisfied with your hat, Roswell," said Mrs.

Crawford, "for I cannot possibly spare you the money now."

 

"So you always say," grumbled Roswell.

 

"But it's true," said his mother. "I'm very short just now. The rent

comes due in a few days, and I am trying hard to get together money

enough to pay it."

 

"I thought you had money coming in from your lodgers."

 

"There's Mr. Bancroft hasn't paid me for six weeks, and I'm afraid I am

going to lose his room-rent. It's hard work for a woman to get along.

Everybody takes advantage of her," said Mrs. Crawford, sighing.

 

"Can't you possibly let me have the money by Saturday, mother?"

 

"No, Roswell. Perhaps in a few weeks I can. But I don't think your hat

looks bad. You can go and get it pressed if you wish."

 

But Roswell declared that wouldn't do, and left the room in an

ill-humor. Instead of feeling for his mother, and wishing to help her,

he was intent only upon his own selfish gratifications.

 

So much, then, was plain,--in his efforts to raise the money for the

initiation fee at the club, he could not expect any help from his

mother. He must rely upon other means.

 

Gradually Roswell came to the determination to follow the dangerous

advice which had been proffered him by Ralph Graham. He could not bear

to give up the project of belonging to the club, and was willing to

commit a dishonest act rather than forego the opportunity.

 

He began to think now of the manner in which he could accomplish what

he had in view. The next day when noon came he went round to the locked

drawer, and, lighting a piece of sealing-wax which he had taken from

one of the cases, he obtained a clear impression of the lock.

 

"I think that will do," thought Roswell.

 

At that moment a customer entered the store, and he hurried the stick

of sealing-wax into his pocket.

 

When the store closed, Roswell went round to a locksmith, whose sign he

remembered to have seen in Third Avenue.

 

He entered the shop with a guilty feeling at his heart, though he had a

plausible story arranged for the occasion.

 

"I want a key made," he said, in a business-like manner; "one that will

fit this lock."

 

Here he displayed the wax impression.

 

"What sort of a lock is it?" asked the locksmith, looking at it.

 

"It is a bureau drawer," said Roswell. "We have lost the key, and can't

open it. So I took the impression in wax. How soon can you let me have

it?"

 

"Are you in a hurry for it?"

 

"Yes; didn't I tell you we couldn't open the drawer?"

 

"Well, I'll try to let you have it by to-morrow night."

 

"That will do," said Roswell.

 

He left the locksmith's shop with mixed feelings of satisfaction and

shame at the thought of the use to which he was intending to put the

key. It was a great price he had determined to pay for the honor of

belonging to the Madison Club.

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER XXI.

 

ROSWELL JOINS THE MADISON CLUB.

 

 

It was not until Saturday night that Roswell obtained the key. The

locksmith, like tradesmen and mechanics in general, kept putting him

off, to Roswell's great annoyance.

 

As he did not get the key till Saturday night, of course there would

be no opportunity of using it till Monday. The only time then was the

hour in which Mr. Baker and Mr. Jones were absent, and Roswell was left

alone. But to his great vexation, an old gentleman came in directly

after Mr. Baker went out, and inquired for him.

 

"He's gone to dinner," said Roswell.

 

"I think I'll wait till he returns," said the visitor, coolly sitting

down in Mr. Baker's arm-chair.

 

Roswell was in dismay, for this would of course prevent his using the

key which he had taken so much trouble to obtain.

 

"Mr. Baker is always out a good while," said Roswell.

 

"Never mind, I can wait for him. I came in from the country this

morning, and shall not need to start back till four."

 

"Perhaps," suggested Roswell, "you could go out and do the rest of your

errands, and come back at two o'clock. Mr. Baker will be sure to be

back then."

 

"Who told you I had any more errands to do?" asked the old gentleman,

sharply.

 

"I thought you might have," said Roswell, somewhat confused.

 

"You are very considerate; but, as my business is over for the day, I

will ask your permission to remain till my nephew returns."

 

So this was Mr. Baker's uncle, a shrewd old gentlemen, if he did live

in the country.

 

"Certainly," said Roswell, but not with a very good grace, adding to

himself; "there'll be no chance for me to get the money to-day. I hope

the old fellow won't come round again to-morrow."

 

The next day was Tuesday. In the evening the club was to meet, so there was no time to lose.