Dan The Newsboy 20

Dan The Newsboy 20

One day a dark-complexioned gentleman, who had been looking earnestly at

Althea, addressed Mrs. Mordaunt.

 

"That is a fine little girl of yours, madam," he said.

 

"Thank you," said Mrs. Mordaunt.

 

"She does not resemble you much," he said, inquiringly.

 

"No; there is very little resemblance," answered Mrs. Mordaunt, quietly,

feeling that she must be on her guard.

 

"Probably she resembles her father?" again essayed the stranger.

 

Mrs. Mordaunt did not reply, and the stranger thought she was offended.

 

"I beg your pardon," he said, "but she resembles a friend of mine, and

that called my attention to her."

 

Mrs. Mordaunt bowed, but thought it wisest not to protract the

conversation. She feared that the inquirer might be a friend of the

father, and hostile to the true interests of the child.

 

For a week to come she did not again bring Althea to the park, but

walked with her in a different direction. When, after a week, she

returned to the square, the stranger had disappeared. At all events, he

was not to be seen.

 

We pass now to Dan and his interests.

 

Mr. Talbot heard of his engagement with anything but satisfaction. He

even ventured to remonstrate with Mr. Rogers.

 

"Do you know that this boy whom you have engaged is a common newsboy?"

he asked. "I have bought a paper more than once of him, in front of the

Astor House."

 

"So have I," answered Mr. Rogers, quietly.

 

"Then you know all about him?"

 

"Yes."

 

"It is none of my business, but I think you could easily get a better

boy. There is my nephew----"

 

"Your nephew would not suit me, Mr. Talbot."

 

The book-keeper bit his lip.

 

"Won't you give him a trial?" he asked.

 

"I have engaged Dan."

 

"If Dan should prove unsatisfactory, would you try my nephew?"

 

"Perhaps so."

 

It was an incautious concession, for it was an inducement to the

book-keeper to get Dan into trouble.

 

It was Dan's duty to go to the post-office, sometimes to go on errands,

and to make himself generally useful about the warehouses. As we know,

however, he had other duties of a more important character, of which Mr.

Talbot knew nothing.

 

The first discovery Dan made was made through the book-keeper's

carelessness.

 

Mr. Rogers was absent in Philadelphia, when Talbot received a note which

evidently disturbed him. Dan saw him knitting his brows, and looking

moody. Finally he hastily wrote a note, and called Dan.

 

"Take that to -- Wall street," he said, "and don't loiter on the way."

 

The note was directed to Jones & Robinson.

 

On reaching the address, Dan found that Jones & Robinson were stock

brokers.

 

Jones read the note.

 

"You come from Mr. Talbot?" he asked.

 

"Yes, sir."

 

"Tell him we will carry the stocks for him a week longer, but can't

exceed that time."

 

"Perhaps you had better write him a note," suggested Dan, "as he may not

like to have me know his business."

 

"Very well."

 

So Dan carried back the note.

 

"I believe I have made a discovery," he said to himself. "Mr. Talbot is

speculating in Wall street. I wonder if he speculates with his own money

or the firm's?"

 

His face, however, betrayed nothing as he handed the note to the

book-keeper, and the latter, after a searching glance, decided that

there was nothing to fear in that quarter.

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER XVII.

 

TALBOT'S SECRET.

 

 

Some light may be thrown upon Mr. Talbot's operations, if the reader

will accompany him to a brownstone house on Lexington avenue, on the

evening of the day when Dan was sent to the office of the Wall street

brokers.

 

Mr. Talbot ascended the steps, not with the elastic step of a man with

whom the world is prospering, but with the slow step of a man who is

burdened with care.

 

"Is Miss Conway at home?" he inquired of the servant who answered the

bell.

 

"Yes, sir."

 

"Will you tell her I should like to speak with her?"

 

"Yes, sir."

 

Talbot walked in with the air of one who was familiar with the house,

and entering a small front room, took a seat.

 

The furniture was plain, and the general appearance was that of a

boarding-house.

 

Talbot seemed immersed in thought, and only raised his eyes from the

carpet when he heard the entrance of a young lady. His face lighted up,

and he rose eagerly.

 

"My dear Virginia," he said, "it seems a long time since I saw you."

 

"It is only four days," returned the young lady, coolly.

 

"Four days without seeing you is an eternity."

 

The young lady smiled. It was easy to see that Talbot was in love, and

she was not.

 

"A very pretty compliment," she said. "Well, have you any news?"

 

"Not good news," said he, soberly.

 

She shrugged her shoulders, and looked disappointed.

 

Before going further, it may be as well to describe briefly the young

lady who had so enthralled the book-keeper.

 

She had the advantage of youth, a complexion clear red and white, and

decidedly pretty features. If there was a defect, it was the __EXPRESSION__

of her eyes. There was nothing soft or winning in her glance. She

seemed, and was, of a cold, calculating, unsympathetic nature. She was

intensely selfish, and was resolved only to marry a man who could

gratify her taste for finery and luxurious living.

 

She was the niece of Mrs. Sinclair, who kept the boarding-house, and

though living in dependence upon her aunt, did nothing to relieve her

from the care and drudgery incidental to her business.

 

"It's too provoking," she said, pouting.

 

"So it is, Virginia;" and Talbot tried to take her hand, but she quietly

withdrew it.

 

"You told me that you would have plenty of money by this time, Mr.

Talbot."

 

"I expected it, but a man can't foresee the fluctuations of Wall street.

I am afraid I shall meet with a loss."

 

"I don't believe you are as smart as Sam Eustis--he's engaged to my

cousin. He made ten thousand dollars last month on Lake Shore."

 

"It's the fools that blunder into luck," said Talbot, irritated.

 

"Then you'd better turn fool; it seems to pay," said Virginia, rather

sharply.

 

"No need of that--I'm fool enough already," said Talbot, bitterly.

 

"Oh, well, if you've only come here to make yourself disagreeable, I'm

sure you'd better stay away," said the young lady, tossing her head.

 

"I came here expecting sympathy and encouragement," said Talbot.

"Instead, you receive me with taunts and coldness."

 

"You are unreasonable, Mr. Talbot," said Virginia. "I will be cheerful

and pleasant when you bring me agreeable news."

 

"Oh, Virginia!" exclaimed Talbot, impulsively. "Why will you require

impossibilities of me? Take me as I am. I have an income of two thousand

dollars a year. We can live comfortably on that, and be happy in a snug little home."