2016년 10월 26일 수요일

Dan The Newsboy 8

Dan The Newsboy 8


"All right, Grab," said Dan. "Now, as I don't want any more of your
company, I'll pay the rent, if you'll give me a receipt."
 
"Have you got the money?" asked Grab, astonished.
 
"Of course I have. I never told you I hadn't."
 
"You made me think so."
 
"It isn't my business what you think. There, that is settled, and now,
Mr. Grab, I have the honor of wishing you good-evening. I hope you won't
hurt your knuckles again."
 
Mr. Grab left the room, inwardly wishing that he could wring Dan's neck.
 
"Oh, Dan, how could you?" asked his mother, reproachfully, as she
re-entered the room.
 
"He deserves it all," said Dan. "Didn't he turn out the poor Donovans on
a cold day last winter? I have no pity for him."
 
"He may turn us out."
 
"Not as long as we pay the rent."
 
 
 
 
CHAPTER VII.
 
MR. GRIPP IS WORSTED.
 
 
Punctually at three o'clock Dan knocked at the door of Mr. Grant's room
in the Astor House.
 
That gentleman looked at his watch as he admitted our hero.
 
"You are punctual to the minute," he said. "Your watch keeps excellent
time."
 
"I'll tell you why," answered Dan, smiling. "I always keep it at
Tiffany's. I don't dare to carry it for fear it will get out of order."
 
"You ought to have a watch," said Mr. Grant. "That will come in time."
 
"I hope so," said Dan. "Then I could be sure to keep my business
appointments. Now I have to depend on the City Hall clock. I'd rather
look at it than carry it round."
 
"Well, Dan, do you think Mr. Gripp is prepared to receive us?"
 
"He'll be glad to see you. He'll think you are going to buy some
clothes. I don't think he'll be very happy to see me."
 
"He must see us both, or neither. Has he any good clothes?"
 
"Yes, sir--good enough for me. I don't think you would like to patronize
his establishment."
 
"By the way, Dan, you have given me an order for money, and I have not
handed you the equivalent."
 
"You may not get the money, sir."
 
"I will make the effort at any rate. By the way, Dan, that coat of yours
is getting shabby."
 
"It is the best I have, sir. Boys in my business don't have to dress
much."
 
"That gives me an idea. Please hand me my hat, and we will start."
 
The two left the Astor House together. One or two of Dan's associates
whom they encountered on the way, were surprised to see him walking on
terms of apparent friendly companionship with a well-to-do stranger, but
decided that Dan was probably acting as his guide.
 
They found Mr. Gripp standing as usual in the door-way of his shop
watching for customers. He did not at first observe Dan, but his
attention was drawn to Mr. Grant.
 
"Walk in, sir," he said, obsequiously. "You will find what you want
here. Styles fashionable, and as for prices--we defy competition."
 
Alexander Grant paused, and looked critically about him. He understood
very well the sort of establishment he was about to enter, and would not
have thought of doing so but in Dan's interests.
 
He stepped over the threshold, and Dan was about to follow, when the
eagle eye of Mr. Gripp recognized our hero.
 
"Clear out, you young rascal!" he exclaimed. "Don't you come round here
any more."
 
Dan did not answer, for he knew Mr. Grant would do so for him.
 
Mr. Grant turned back, and said, quietly:
 
"To whom are you speaking, sir?"
 
"I beg your pardon, sir--it's that boy."
 
"Then, sir, you will oblige me by stopping at once. That boy is in my
company and under my protection."
 
Nathan Gripp stared as if transfixed.
 
"Do you know him, sir?" he asked.
 
"Yes, sir."
 
"You are mistaken in him, sir. He's an artful young rascal. He was here
yesterday, and acted outrageously. He assaulted my clerk and insulted
me."
 
"I have nothing to do with that. He is in my company, and if I enter the
store he will."
 
"Oh, of course, if he's with you he can come in. Samuel, show the
gentleman what he wants."
 
Dan smiled, and nothing but a sense of his own interest prevented Mr.
Gripp from objecting to his entrance.
 
"What will I show you, sir?" asked the callow young man named Samuel,
glaring at Dan in vivid remembrance of the blow which had doubled him
up.
 
"Have you any coats and vests that will fit this young gentleman?"
 
"Young gentleman!" repeated Samuel, mechanically, glancing at Dan in
silent hatred.
 
"That means me, Samuel," said Dan, mischievously. "Samuel is an old
friend of mine, Mr. Grant."
 
"I think we can fit him," said Samuel, by no means relishing the task of
waiting upon his young opponent. "Take off your coat, young feller."
 
"Don't be too familiar, Samuel. You may call me Mr. Mordaunt," said Dan.
 
"I'll be ---- if I do," muttered the young man.
 
Dan took off his coat, and tried on the one submitted to his inspection.
He afterward tried on the vest, and they proved to be a good fit.
 
"Do they suit you, Dan?" asked Mr. Grant.
 
"Yes, sir, they fit as well as if they had been made for me."
 
"What is the price of these articles, young man?" asked Mr. Grant.
 
"Twelve dollars," answered Samuel.
 
"He'll take eight," suggested Dan, in a low voice.
 
Mr. Grant knew well enough the ways of Chatham street merchants to
appreciate the suggestion.
 
"That is too high," he said, quietly.
 
Samuel, who was trained to read customers, after a glance at Mr. Grant's
face, prepared to reduce the price.
 
"We might say eleven," he said, meditatively. "Shall I put them up?"
 
"Not at that price."
 
"You don't want us to give 'em away?" said Samuel, in the tone of one
whose reasonable demands had been objected to.
 
"There is no fear of that, I apprehend," returned Mr. Grant, dryly.
 
"I've no objection, I'm sure," remarked Dan, on his own account.
 
"I'd make a few remarks to you, young feller, if you were alone," he
read in the eyes of the indignant salesman, and Dan enjoyed the
restraint which he knew Samuel was putting upon himself.
 
"You are still asking too much," said the customer.
 
"What'll you give, sir?" asked Samuel, diplomatically.
 
"Eight dollars."
 
"Eight dollars! Why the cloth cost more than that!" protested Samuel.
 
"The work didn't cost you much, I presume."
 
"We pay the highest prices for work in this establishment, sir," said
Samuel, hastily.
 
He forgot that Dan knew better.
 
"So they do, Mr. Grant," said Dan. "They pay twenty cents apiece for
making vests."
 
"We pay more than that to our best hands," said Samuel.
 
"You told me you never paid more," retorted Dan.
 
Mr. Grant interrupted this discussion.   

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