Kitobni o'qish: «Wait and Hope: or, A Plucky Boy's Luck», sahifa 8
Chapter XXIV
Ben Arrives in Boston
Ben set out for Boston on Monday morning in very good spirits. His aunt shed a few tears at parting. She was apt to take depressing views of the future, and said; "I hope you'll prosper, Ben," in a tone which implied that she did not think there was more than one chance in ten of his success. But Ben understood his aunt, and did not allow her presentiments to weigh with him. His motto was still, "Wait and Hope."
Ben found himself seated beside a young man of pleasant appearance, who was attracted by our hero's frank and manly look.
"I suppose you are going to Boston," he said.
"Yes," answered Ben readily.
"Have you got a place there?"
"I am going to have," said Ben cheerfully.
"Do you mind telling where?"
"Oh, no," said Ben; "I am going to the store of Jones & Porter."
"Indeed! There are very prominent business men."
"I suppose they are," said Ben.
"Do you know them personally?"
"I don't know them at all. I think some friend of mine must have mentioned me to them."
"It's rather singular that I shouldn't know anything about your engagement," said the young man.
"Why should you?" inquired Ben, in natural surprise.
"The fact is, I am Mr. Porter's nephew, and am a salesman in the establishment," said the young man. He drew from his pocket a business card, bearing the name.
HENRY W. PORTER
With Jones and Porter
Ben was rather disturbed, and he thought: "Can there be anything wrong?"
He said aloud: "I don't see how there can be any mistake. I received a letter from Jones & Porter last week, offering me the place."
Ben took the letter from his pocket and handed it to the young man.
The latter ran his eye over it hastily. He examined the signature and the address, and said quietly "I don't think this letter came from our store."
Ben felt as if the earth had opened before him.
"I don't understand it," he said, his face very red. "If the letter isn't genuine, who could have written it?"
"It seems written in a schoolboy hand," said young Porter. "Isn't it possible that some one may be playing a practical joke on you?"
"It wouldn't be much of a joke to me," said Ben.
"I should call it a mean trick myself," said Porter; "but can't you think of any one who may have written it?"
"I'll bet it's Sam Archer."
"And who is Sam Archer?"
"He is the meanest boy in Milltown," said Ben.
"Doesn't he like you? Isn't he one of your friends?"
"No, he does all he can to injure me. But" – here Ben examined the letter a second time – "this isn't his handwriting."
"That proves nothing. He probably sent it to some confederate in
Boston to copy and mail to you."
"Don't you think there is any chance of its being genuine?" asked Ben.
"The chance is very slight; but it is well, of course, to make sure. I have been away to pass Sunday, and shall go to the store at once on my arrival. You can go with me. I will introduce you to my uncle."
"If it is a trick," said Ben uncomfortably, "I shall be in an awkward fix."
"Whether it is a trick or not, you can count on my friendship," said young Porter kindly.
"Thank you," said Ben gratefully.
About an hour later Ben and his new friend entered the large and handsome bookstore of Jones & Porter.
Young Porter, as he walked through the store, received the greetings of his fellow clerks.
"Have you adopted a boy?" asked one facetiously.
"Yes," said Porter, smiling. "Where is my uncle?"
"He is in the back office."
"All right! Come along, Ben."
Henry Porter kept on his way till he reached the back part of the store, where a good-sized office was partitioned off. Mr. Porter was writing at a desk.
"Good morning, uncle," said Ben's companion.
"Good morning, Henry. Have a good time?"
"Excellent, uncle. Let me introduce to your favorite notice Master
Benjamin Bradford, of Milltown."
Mr. Porter did not consider it beneath his dignity to be polite even to a boy.
"I am glad to see you, my young friend," he said, rising and offering his hand to Ben. "Are you on a visit to the city?"
Poor Ben! His heart sank within him. Evidently Mr. Porter would not ask such a question of a boy whom he had engaged to work for him.
The young man saw his embarrassment and answered for him.
"That's rather an odd question to ask you new clerk, uncle," he said.
"My new clerk, Henry? I don't understand you."
"Ben, show your letter."
"That is a forgery," said the uncle rather indignantly.
Poor Ben! Manly as he was, he felt ready to cry.
"I am sorry," he said faltering.
"Have you any idea who wrote it?" asked Mr. Porter.
"Yes," answered Ben. "It's Sam Archer."
"In fun?"
"No, in spite. He is always glad to injure me."
"What can be his motive?"
Ben explained his relations with Sam.
"Do you need the position?" asked Mr. Porter.
"Yes, sir, I am poor, and can ill afford the money I have spent in coming to Boston. Sam knows this, and it is mean for him, a rich boy, to fool me so."
Mr. Porter was a kind-hearted man. More than once he had kept on a clerk whom he did not need.
"Go into the store a minute, my boy," he said, "while I speak with my nephew."
Of course Ben obeyed.
"What do you think of this boy, Henry?"
"I think very favorably of him. He seems honest and straightforward, and I think he is smart."
"I like his looks myself; I wish we had a vacancy."
"We shall have very soon."
"To whom do you refer?"
"Frank Robinson is going to leave at the beginning of next month. His father thinks it will be better for him to go to school a year or two longer."
"So you would recommend hiring this boy?"
"Yes, sir; I have so good an opinion of him that I am quite willing to guarantee him. If you will take him on immediately, I will myself pay his wages till the end of the month, when Robinson leaves."
"Bravo, Henry! That shows a kind heart. I won't accept that, but will give you leave to help him outside as much as you please."
Chapter XXV
Sam Gives Himself Away
Ben was looking with interest at a row of new books when he was summoned into the private office.
"My young friend," said Mr. Porter, senior, "we are not responsible for the letter that brought you here."
"No, sir," said Ben. "I am sorry to have troubled you. I'll go home this afternoon."
He looked sober enough, poor Ben, for it would not be pleasant facing his aunt and friends in Milltown, and explaining matters. Even the "licking" which he determined to give Sam Archer, if he should prove the author of the decoy letter, would be a poor satisfaction.
"You may as well stay," said Mr. Porter. "My nephew thinks we can find a place for you in the store."
"Will you really take me?" asked Ben.
"We will try you. My nephew thinks you will suit us."
"Thank you, sir," said Ben warmly.
"Your friend, who wrote the letter, will be rather disappointed, eh?" said young Porter, smiling.
"Yes," said Ben, who could smile now. "I should like to see him when he learns that his malicious letter has procured me a situation.
"What do we pay you Robinson?"
"Six dollars a week."
"Then Benjamin shall have the same. He has no knowledge of the business, to be sure – "
"I will have soon," said Ben confidently.
"That's right, my lad. Make yourself useful to us, and you won't have cause to regret it."
He was set to work dusting books, and young Porter went to his own desk; he was chief bookkeeper.
"When the store closes," he said, "come to me. I shall take you to my room to-night."
In the evening, at his friend's room, Ben wrote the following letter to his friend, James Watson:
"Boston, July 18, 19 – .
"Dear James: Though I have been only a few hours in Boston I have a good deal to tell you. You remember my showing you the letter from Jones & Porter, which induced me to come to the city. Well, it was a hoax. It didn't come from the firm at all. Somebody wanted to play a trick on me, and wrote it. I have no doubt Sam Archer was at the bottom of it. You know what a mean fellow he is, and that he would like nothing better than to injure me. But I am glad to say that he has not succeeded. By great good luck I got acquainted with Mr. Porter's nephew on board the train. I showed him the letter, which he pronounced probably a forgery. But he took me to the store – he is head bookkeeper – and introduced me to his uncle. It seems that there will be a vacancy at the beginning of next month, and as I was on the ground, they engaged me. So Sam's mean trick has been the means of obtaining me a position. He will be provoked enough when he hears it. Now I will tell you what I want you to do. Don't say a word about the letter being a hoax. Merely tell the boys that I have got the place I expected. If Sam wrote the letter he will certainly betray himself. Keep mum, and lead him on. Then let me know what you find out. I will write again soon.
"Your affectionate friend,"Ben Bradford."
"It's a mean trick, and just like Sam," ejaculated James when he read Ben's letter. "I'll follow Ben's instructions. Sam will be coming round making inquiries pretty soon. I'll manage him."
James was right in his supposition. Sam eagerly awaited the upshot of his trick. He concluded that Ben would come back Monday night depressed and humiliated, and he was on the street near Ben's house when the afternoon train got in, ready to feast his eyes on his rival's unhappiness. But he waited in vain.
The next morning, about ten o'clock, he met James Watson on the street. James had received the letter from Ben the evening previous.
"How are you, James?" said Sam.
"I'm all right," said James rather coolly.
"Have you heard from Ben Bradford?"
"I heard last night."
"What does he say?' asked Sam eagerly.
"He hadn't been in his situation long enough to tell how he should like it," answered James.
"Is he in a situation?" demanded Sam in surprise.
"What do you think he went to Boston for?"
"Where is he working?" asked Sam incredulously.
"He is with Jones & Porter, of course. Didn't you know they sent for him?"
"Ha! ha!" laughed Sam.
"I am on the track," thought James.
"I don't know what you mean," said he quietly. "Jones & Porter sent for Ben, and he is in their employ."
"I'll bet you a dollar Ben Bradford will be back here within a week," said Sam, in a ton of great confidence. "I don't believe Jones & Porter ever wrote him a letter."
"I saw the letter."
"Suppose you did; it might have been a hoax."
"Then whoever wrote it did Ben a good turn, for he has got a place at Jones & Porter's."
"I don't believe it," said Sam uneasily.
"Ben writes me that he is there."
"Will you let me see the letter?"
"No, I won't."
"That convinces me that it's all a humbug."
"You think the letter a hoax?"
"Yes, I do."
"What reason have you for thinking so?"
"I decline to state."
"Who do you think wrote it?"
"How should I know?"
"As you know so much, I don't mind telling you that you are right.
The letter was a hoax."
Sam laughed heartily.
"I thought so," he said.
"And I know who wrote it."
Sam didn't laugh now.
"Who?" he asked uncomfortably.
"You did it."
"What do you mean?" blustered Sam.
"Exactly what I say. Otherwise you would have had no reason to suspect the genuineness of it."
"Does Ben Bradford charge me with it? Just wait till I see him."
"That will be some time unless you go to Boston. Jones &
Porter happened to have a vacancy, and Ben stepped into it.
Your letter got him a place."
"I don't believe it," said Sam faintly.
"It's true, and it's lucky for you. If Ben had been obliged to come home he would have given you the worst licking you ever had."
Chapter XXVI
Ben Finds a Boarding-Place
Henry Porter had a fine suite of rooms in the Back Bay District of
Boston. Ben spent the night with him.
"You've got a nice home," said our hero.
"Yes," said the bookkeeper. "My rooms alone cost me fifteen dollars a week."
"Without board?" ejaculated Ben.
"Yes," said the young man, smiling.
"Why, that is almost eight hundred dollars a year."
"Quite correct. I see you think me extravagant."
"I was wondering how you could afford it."
"Your surprise is natural. If I only depended on my salary, I certainly should not hire such expensive apartments. But a good aunt left me twenty thousand dollars, two years since, and this being well invested yields me about fourteen hundred dollars a year."
"I wonder you don't go into business."
"I have thought of it, but doubt whether I should manage a business of my own judiciously. If not, I should run the risk of losing all my money. I like keeping books for my uncle, and he pays me a good salary. With this and the income from my property I can live as well as I wish without incurring any risk at all."
"I don't know but that is best," said Ben.
"Now let me speak of your own plans, Ben. Your income is six dollars a week."
"Yes, sir."
"You must regulate your expenses accordingly."
"I want to do so, Mr. Porter. How much board shall I have to pay?" asked Ben anxiously.
"I cannot tell without inquiring. There is a boarding-house on Warren Avenue, kept by a worthy lady of my acquaintance. How much do you fell able to pay?"
"I should like to have enough over to buy my clothes."
"We will see if we can manage it Get your hat and we will go to the boarding-house now."
It was a three-story brick house, such as is common in Boston. It was unusually neat for a boarding-house of medium grade, Mrs. Draper being an excellent housekeeper, with a horror of dirt.
"How do you do, Mr. Porter?" was the landlady's greeting. Mr.
Porter had once boarded with her.
"Very well, thank you, Mrs. Draper. How is business? Pretty full, eh?"
"Yes, sir; I've only got one small room vacant."
"May we see it?"
"It won't suit you, Mr. Porter."
"It may suit my young friend here."
"A relative of yours?" inquired Mrs. Draper.
"No, but he is a young friend in whom I feel an interest."
"I shall be very glad if the room suits him, then."
Mrs. Draper led the way up-stairs to the vacant room. It was small, but neatly carpeted, and provided all that was needful in a chamber.
"How much do you like it, Ben?" asked the bookkeeper.
"Very much," said Ben, in a tone of satisfaction.
Mr. Porter walked to the other end of the room and discussed terms with Mrs. Draper in a low tone.
"What is your price for this room with board?"
"I have generally got six dollars a week."
"I want you to let my young friend have it for four."
"I really couldn't do it, Mr. Porter. You have no idea how much I have to pay at the market for meat and vegetables. Then my landlord won't reduce my rent."
"You don't understand me, Mrs. Draper," said the bookkeeper. "You are to charge him only four dollars; but I propose to make up the difference."
"That is, of course, satisfactory."
"One thing more. My young friend is not to know about this arrangement. He is to suppose that four dollars a week is payment in full."
"There is only one objection to that, Mr. Porter. If my other boarders suppose that is all he pays, they will make a fuss, and want their rate of board reduced."
"Then he shall be cautioned to keep the price he pays secret. Ben!"
Ben walked over to where they were standing.
"Mrs. Draper agrees to take you at the very low price of four dollars a week for room and board."
Ben looked delighted.
"Then I shall have money enough from my wages to pay all my expenses without calling on Aunt Jane."
"Yes, if you are economical. As this price is extremely low, you are not to mention to any of the other boarders how much you pay."
"I will be sure to remember it," said Ben.
As they were leaving the house Mr. Porter said: "Don't suppose, Ben, that I am anxious to get rid of you. I had half a mind to keep you with me a week or two. But one thing deterred me. You are a poor boy, and have your own way to make in the world. You can't for years afford to live as I am doing. If I accustomed you to living expensively it would be harder for you to accommodate yourself to your means."
"I understand you, Mr. Porter, and thank you. I consider you a true friend," said Ben earnestly.
"I see you are a sensible boy, Ben. You are right in looking upon me as a friend. I hope you will come and call upon me often."
"Thank you, sir. I shall consider it a privilege to do so. And I hope you will give me any advice that you think will benefit me."
"I will, Ben, and I will begin now. We have a large public library in Boston, of which we are very proud. I advise you to draw books from it."
"I shall be glad to," said Ben eagerly.
"Come round, and I will show it to you."
Together they entered the handsome building on Copley Square. Ben, who had never seen a large library, or, indeed, any library containing over a thousand books, was amazed at what he saw.
"I didn't suppose there was any library in the world so large," he said.
"Here is the newspaper and magazine room. You can come in here any evening. It will be much better than to spend your time where many boys and young men do – in billiard and drinking saloons."
"I shall enjoy living in Boston very much."
"I think you will. While a large city has more temptations than a small town, it also has more opportunities for improvement. I hope, Ben, you will start right, and prepare the way for a useful manhood."
"Thank you, Mr. Porter. I mean to try."
The next day Ben took formal possession of his room in the boarding-house on Warren Avenue. He found a pleasant class of boarders there and a good table. Though not luxurious, it was better than he had been used to at home, and he felt himself fortunately placed.
Chapter XXVII
Sam Attempts Strategy
The more Sam Archer thought of the effect of his letter upon Ben's fortunes the more he felt provoked.
"I wish I hadn't sent him to Jones & Porter," thought he. "I hope he won't suit them."
When a fortnight had passed Sam managed to meet James Watson.
"Have you heard from Ben Bradford lately?"
"Yes," said James.
"What does he write?"
"That he likes his place very much. The bookkeeper is very kind to him, and assists him with advice. Then he likes being in a bookstore."
Sam was not overjoyed at the news.
"How kind you are to take such an interest in Ben!"
"I don't take an interest in him," returned Sam.
"Then what makes you ask after him so particularly?"
"I expected he'd be discharged by this time."
"What made you think so?"
"He didn't give satisfaction at the mill. He was discharged."
"So was I."
"But not for the same reasons," said Sam. "It was because times were dull."
"I rather think Ben's work was satisfactory enough, but you influenced your father against him."
"How much pay does he get?" inquired Sam.
"More than he received at the mill."
"I wonder whether all this is true," considered Sam. "James Watson is Ben's friend and he may represent things better than they are."
An excellent plan suggested itself to Sam. He would ask his father's permission to go to Boston and pass a day or two with his friend, Frank Ferguson. This would allow him to drop into Jones & Porter's store and judge for himself how Ben was situated.
Sam had no trouble about obtaining permission.
On reaching the city he decided to call at the store before going to his friend's residence.
Ben was dusting books, when a glance toward the door revealed the entrance of Sam. The latter had cherished a faint hope that James had deceived him, and that Ben was really not employed.
"How shall I receive him?" Ben asked himself.
He decided to treat him coolly, but not to quarrel.
"Good morning, Bradford," said Sam.
"Good morning, Archer," was the return greeting.
Sam didn't quite like this familiarity.
"How do you like working here?"
"Very much," answered Ben. "Much better than in the mill," he added significantly.
"I shouldn't think they'd have taken a green country boy," suggested
Sam pleasantly.
"Perhaps they wouldn't if a friend hadn't written for me," said Ben with a meaning glance at Sam.
"How much pay do you get?"
"I would rather not say."
"Because it is so small," said Sam, with a sneer.
"On the contrary, I look upon it as liberal. I am doing better than if I had remained at Milltown."
This was bad news for Sam.
"I am really obliged to the person who wrote the letter which secured me the position," Ben added.
"It isn't much of a business to dust books."
"I sell books sometimes," said Ben, smiling. "Can I show you something this morning."
"No, I don't want anything. Where do you live?"
"I board on Warren Avenue."
"In a cheap boarding-house?"
"There are some very nice people who board there."
Sam came to a sudden decision. Would it be possible to induce Ben to give up his place, and enter the mill again? He could be discharged after awhile, and cast adrift. It was rather foolish to suppose that Ben would snap at such a bait, but he decided to try it.
"I think you would be better off in the mill," he said.
"You could board at home, and help your aunt. You would soon be promoted, too."
"I thought you didn't want me to enter the mill," exclaimed Ben, amazed. "Your father told me that my record was not good;" and Ben looked indignant.
"Father was feeling out of sorts," said Sam smoothly.
"He will take you on if you'll come back."
"What does the fellow mean?" thought Ben.
It didn't take him long to guess. If he should return to the mill he would be once more in Sam's power.
"You really think your father would employ me?"
"Yes, he would if I asked him to."
"I would thank you, Sam Archer, if I thought your offer was a friendly one."
"What makes you think that it isn't."
"The feeling which I have reason to think you entertain for me, and your conduct in the past."
"You are too suspicious, Ben."
"If I find I am, I will apologize to you. It would be foolish for me to give up so good a position in order to accept a poor one, which is not all permanent."
"Well, Bradford, I must bid you good morning. Just write to me if you decide to accept."
"If I decide to accept I will."
"He's getting very impudent," said Sam to himself, "If I could only get him into the mill I could fix him. We'd let him stay two or three weeks, and then ship him. But he won't do it. Stay, I think of a way."
What the way was may be conjectured from a letter which Ben received three days later from his Aunt Jane:
"My Dear Nephew: I am feeling almost heart-broken. It is reported by one who saw you lately that you are looking very dissipated. I was afraid the temptations of the city were too much for you. You are too young to go away from home. I won't blame you too much, for I feel that you are weak rather than wicked. But I shall not feel comfortable till you are at home again. Don't hesitate to give up your place. I am assured that they will take you on again at the mill, and it will be much better for you to be at home with us, till you are older, and better able to resist temptation.
"Your anxious aunt,"Jane Bradford"
Ben read this letter in amazed indignation.
"Sam is at the bottom of this," he concluded. "It is he that has reported that I look dissipated. He wants to deprive me of my place, and get me into the mill, where I shall be in his power. I can't forgive him for frightening my poor aunt. If I were at home, I should certainly punish him as he deserves."
Ben took the letter to his friend, the bookkeeper.
"What do you think of that?" he asked.
"This letter was written at an enemy's instigation."
"You are right, Mr. Porter."
Then Ben told his friend of Sam's call.
"Will you do me a favor, Mr. Porter?" he asked.
"Certainly I will, Ben."
"Then, will you write to my aunt, and assure her that my habits are good, and that her informant has willfully lied? It will relieve her anxiety."
"With pleasure."
The next day Mrs. Bradford received a letter, very enthusiastic in its tone, which completely exonerated our hero from the charges brought against him.
"Your nephew," it concluded, "bids fair to become one of our best clerks. He is polite, faithful, and continually trying to improve. You need have no apprehension about him. It would be very foolish for him to resign his situation."
