Alger Horatio Jr.
Cast Upon the Breakers
CHAPTER XIX
JASPER’S REVENGE
Rodney was considerably surprised one evening to receive a call from Jasper in his room. He was alone, as Mike had been detailed about a week ago for night duty. The room looked more attractive than formerly. Rodney had bought a writing desk, which stood in the corner, and had put up three pictures, which, though cheap, were attractive.
“Good evening, Jasper,” he said. “It is quite friendly of you to call.”
“I hadn’t anything else on hand this evening, and thought I would come round see how you were getting along.”
“Take a seat and make yourself at home.”
“Do you object to cigarettes?” asked Jasper, producing one from a case in his pocket.
“I object to smoking them myself, but I don’t want to dictate to my friends.”
“You look quite comfortable here,” continued Jasper in a patronizing tone.
“We try to be comfortable, though our room is not luxurious.”
“Who do you mean by ‘we’? Have you a room mate?”
“Yes. Mike Flynn rooms with me.”
“Who is he—a newsboy?”
“No. He is a telegraph boy.”
“You don’t seem to very particular,” said Jasper, shrugging his shoulders.
“I am very particular.”
“Yet you room with an Irish telegraph boy.”
“He is a nice boy of good habit, and a devoted friend. What could I want more?”
“Oh, well, you have a right to consult your own taste.”
“You have a nice home, no doubt.”
“I live with my uncle. Yes, he has a good house, but I am not so independent as if I had a room outide.”
“How are things going on at the store?”
“About the same as usual. Why don’t you come in some day?”
“For two reasons; I am occupied during the day, and I don’t want to go where I am considered a thief.”
“I wish I was getting your income. It is hard to get along on seven dollars a week.”
“Still you have a nice home, and I suppose you have most of your salary to yourself.”
“Yes, but there isn’t much margin in seven dollars. My uncle expects me to buy my own clothes. You were lucky to get out of the store. Old Goodnow ought to give me ten dollars.”
“Don’t let him hear you speak of him as OLD Goodnow, Jasper.”
“Oh, I’m smart enough for that. I mean to keep on the right side of the old chap. What sort of a man are you working for?”
“Mr. Sargent is a fine man.”
“He isn’t mean certainly. I should like to be in your shoes.”
“If I hear of any similar position shall I mention your name?” asked Rodney, smiling.
“No; I could not take care of a kid. I hate them.”
“Still Arthur is a nice boy.”
“You are welcome to him. What do you have to teach?”
“He is studying Latin and French, besides English branches.”
“I know about as much of Latin and French as a cow. I couldn’t be a teacher. I say, Rodney,” and Jasper cleared his throat, “I want you to do me a favor.”
“What is it?”
“I want you to lend me ten dollars.”
Rodney was not mean, but he knew very well that a loan to Jasper would be a permanent one. Had Jasper been his friend even this consideration would not have inspired a refusal, but he knew very well that Jasper had not a particle of regard for him.
“I don’t think I can oblige you, Jasper,” he said.
“Why not? You get fifteen dollars a week.”
“My expenses are considerable. Besides I am helping Mike, whose salary is very small. I pay the whole of the rent and I have paid for some clothes for him.”
“You are spending your money very foolishly,” said Jasper frowning.
“Would I spend it any less foolishly if I should lend you ten dollars?”
“There is some difference between Mike Flynn and me. I am a gentleman.”
“So is Mike.”
“A queer sort of gentleman! He is only a poor telegraph boy.”
“Still he is a gentleman.”
“I should think you might have money enough for both of us.”
“I might but I want to save something from my salary. I don’t know how long I shall be earning as much. I might lose my place.”
“So you might.”
“And I could hardly expect to get another where the pay would be as good.”
“I would pay you on installment—a dollar a week,” urged Jasper.
“I don’t see how you could, as you say your pay is too small for you now.”
“Oh, well, I could manage.”
“I am afraid I can’t oblige you, Jasper,” said Rodney in a decided tone.
“I didn’t think you were so miserly,” answered Jasper in vexation.
“You may call it so, if you like. You must remember that I am not situated like you. You have your uncle to fall back upon in case you lose your position, but I have no one. I have to hustle for myself.”
“Oh, you needn’t make any more excuses. I suppose ten dollars is rather a large sum to lend. Can you lend me five?”
“I am sorry, but I must refuse you.”
Jasper rose from the chair on which he had been sitting.
“Then I may as well go,” he said. “I am disappointed in you, Ropes. I thought you were a good, whole souled fellow, and not a miser.”
“You must think of me as you please, Jasper. I feel that I have a right to regulate my own affairs.”
“All I have to say is this, if you lose your place as you may very soon, don’t come round to the store and expect to be taken back.”
“I won’t,” answered Rodney, smiling. “I wouldn’t go back at any rate unless the charge of theft was withdrawn.”
“That will never be!”
“Let it be so, as long as I am innocent.”
Jasper left the room abruptly, not even having the politeness to bid Rodney good evening.
Rodney felt that he was quite justified in refusing to lend Jasper money. Had he been in need he would have obliged him, though he had no reason to look upon him as a friend.
No one who knew Rodney could regard him as mean or miserly. Could he have read Jasper’s thoughts as he left the house he would have felt even less regret at disappointing him.
About two days afterward when Rodney went up to meet his pupil, Mr. Sargent handed him a letter.
“Here is something that concerns you, Rodney,” he said. “It doesn’t appear to be from a friend of yours.”
With some curiosity Rodney took the letter and read it.
It ran thus:
Mr. JOHN SARGENT:
DEAR SIR—I think it my duty to write and tell you something about your son’s tutor—something that will surprise and shock you. Before he entered your house he was employed by a firm on Reade Street. He was quite a favorite with his employer, Mr. Otis Goodnow, who promoted him in a short time. All at once it was found that articles were missing from the stock. Of course it was evident that some one of the clerks was dishonest. A watch was set, and finally it was found that Rodney Ropes had taken the articles, and one—a lady’s cloak—was found in his room by a detective. He was discharged at once without a recommendation.
For a time he lived by selling papers, but at last he managed to getinto your house. I am sure you won’t regard him as fit to educateyour little son, though I have no doubt he is a good scholar. But hischaracter is bad—I don’t think he ought to have concealed this from youout of friendship for you, and because I think it is my duty, I take theliberty of writing. If you doubt this I will refer to Mr. Goodnow,or Mr. James Redwood, who had charge of the room in which Ropes wasemployed. Yours very respectfully,
A FRIEND.
“You knew all this before, Mr. Sargent,” said Rodney, as he handed back the letter.
“Yes. Have you any idea who wrote it?”
“I feel quite sure that it was a boy about two years older than myself, Jasper Redwood.”
“Is he related to the man of the same name whom he mentions?”
“Yes, he is his nephew.”
“Has he any particular reason for disliking you, Rodney?”
“Yes, sir. He came round to my room Wednesday evening, and asked me to lend him ten dollars.”
“I presume you refused.”
“Yes, sir. He is not in need. He succeeded to my place, and he has a home at the house of his uncle.”
“He appears to be a very mean boy. Anonymous letters are always cowardly, and generally malicious. This seems to be no exception to the general rule.”
“I hope it won’t affect your feelings towards me, Mr. Sargent.”
“Don’t trouble yourself about that Rodney. I am not so easily prejudiced against one of whom I have a good opinion.”
“I suppose this is Jasper’s revenge,” thought Rodney.
CHAPTER XX
RODNEY LOSES HIS PUPIL
Jasper had little doubt that his letter would lead to Rodney’s loss of position. It was certainly a mean thing to plot another’s downfall, but Jasper was quite capable of it. Had he secured the loan he asked he would have been willing to leave Rodney alone, but it would only have been the first of a series of similar applications.
It was several days before Jasper had an opportunity of learning whether his malicious plan had succeeded or not. On Sunday forenoon he met Rodney on Fifth Avenue just as the church services were over. He crossed the street and accosted the boy he had tried to injure.
“Good morning, Ropes,” he said, examining Rodney’s face curiously to see whether it indicated trouble of any kind.
“Good morning!” responded Rodney coolly.
“How are you getting along in your place?”
“Very well, thank you.”
“Shall I find you at your pupil’s house if I call there some afternoon?”
“Yes, unless I am out walking with Arthur.”
“I wonder whether he’s bluffing,” thought Jasper. “I daresay he wouldn’t tell me if he had been discharged. He takes it pretty coolly.”
“How long do you think your engagement will last?” he asked.
“I don’t know. I never had a talk with Mr. Sargent on that point.”
“Do you still give satisfaction?”
Rodney penetrated Jasper’s motives for asking all these questions, and was amused.
“I presume if I fail to satisfy Mr. Sargent he will tell me so.”
“It would be a nice thing if you could stay there three or four years.”
“Yes: but I don’t anticipate it. When Arthur get a little older he will be sent to school.”
“What will you do then?”
“I haven’t got so far as that.”
“I can’t get anything out of him,” said Jasper to himself. “I shouldn’t be a bit surprised if he were already discharged.”
They had now reached Madison Square, and Jasper left Rodney.
The latter looked after him with a smile.
“I think I have puzzled Jasper,” he said to himself. “He was anxious to know how his scheme had worked. He will have to wait a little longer.”
“If Mr. Sargent keeps Ropes after my letter he must be a fool,” Jasper decided. “I wonder if Ropes handles the mail. He might have suppressed the letter.”
But Rodney was not familiar with his handwriting, and would have no reason to suspect that the particular letter contained anything likely to injure him in the eyes of Mr. Sargent.
Later in his walk Jasper met Philip Carton. His former friend was sitting on a bench in Madison Square. He called out to Jasper as he passed.
“Come here, Jasper, I want to talk with you.”
Jasper looked at him in a manner far from friendly.
“I am in a hurry,” he said.
“What hurry can you be in? Come and sit down here. I MUST speak to you.”
Jasper did not like his tone, but it impressed him, and he did not dare to refuse.
He seated himself beside Philip, but looked at him askance. Carton was undeniably shabby. He had the look of a man who was going down hill and that rapidly.
“I shall be late for dinner,” grumbled Jasper.
“I wish I had any dinner to look forward to,” said Carton. “Do you see this money?” and he produced a nickel from his pocket.
“What is there remarkable about it?”
“It is the last money I have. It won’t buy me a dinner.”
“I am sorry, but it is none of my business,” said Jasper coolly. “You are old enough to attend to your own affairs.”
“And I once thought you were my friend,” murmured Philip bitterly.
“Yes, we were friends in a way.”
“Now you are up and I am down—Jasper, I want a dollar.”
“I dare say you do. Plenty want that.”
“I want it from you.”
“I can’t spare it.”
“You can spare it better than you can spare your situation.”
“What do you mean by that?” asked Jasper, growing nervous.
“I’ll tell you what I mean. How long do you think you would stay in the store if Mr. Goodnow knew that you were concerned in the theft from which he has suffered?”
“Was I the only one?”
“No; I am equally guilty.”
“I am glad you acknowledge it. You see you had better keep quiet for your own sake.”
“If I keep quiet I shall starve.”
“Do you want to go to prison?”
“I shouldn’t mind so much if you went along, too.”
“Are you crazy, Philip Carton?”
“No, I am not, but I am beginning to get sensible. If I go to prison I shall at least have enough to eat, and now I haven’t.”
“What do you mean by all this foolish talk?”
“I mean that if you won’t give me any money I will go to the store and tell Mr. Goodnow something that will surprise him.”
Jasper was getting thoroughly frightened.
“Come, Philip.” he said, “listen to reason. You know how poor I am.”
“No doubt. I know you have a good home and enough to eat.”
“I only get seven dollars a week.”
“And I get nothing.”
“I have already been trying to help you. I went to Ropes the other day, and asked him to lend me five dollars. I meant it for you.”
“Did he give it to you?”
“He wouldn’t give me a cent. He is mean and miserly!”
“I don’t know. He knows very well that you are no friend of his, though he doesn’t know how much harm you have done him.”
“He’s rolling in money. However, I’ve put a spoke in his wheel, I hope.”
“How?”
“I wrote an anonymous letter to Mr. Sargent telling him that Ropes was discharged from the store on suspicion of theft.”
“You are a precious scamp, Jasper.”
“What do you mean?”
“You are not content with getting Ropes discharged for something which you yourself did–”
“And you too.”
“And I too. I accept the amendment. Not content with that, you try to get him discharged from his present position.”
“Then he might have lent me the money,” said Jasper sullenly.
“It wouldn’t have been a loan. It would have been a gift. But no matter about that. I want a dollar.”
“I can’t give it to you.”
“Then I shall call at the store tomorrow morning and tell Mr. Goodnow about the stolen goods.”
Finding that Carton was in earnest Jasper finally, but with great reluctance, drew out a dollar and handed it to his companion.
“There, I hope that will satisfy you,” he said spitefully.
“It will—for the present.”
“I wish he’d get run over or something,” thought Jasper. “He seems to expect me to support him, and that on seven dollars a week.”
Fortunately for Jasper, Philip Carton obtained employment the next day which lasted for some time, and as he was paid ten dollars a week he was not under the necessity of troubling his old confederate for loans.
Now and then Jasper and Rodney met, but there were no cordial relations between them. Jasper could not forgive Rodney for refusing to lend him money, and Rodney was not likely to forget the anonymous letter by which Jasper had tried to injure him.
So three months passed. One day Mr. Sargent arrived at home before it was time for Rodney to leave.
“I am glad to see you, Rodney,” said his employer. “I have some news for you which I am afraid will not be entirely satisfactory to you.”
“What is it, sir?”
“For the last three years I have been wishing to go to Europe with my wife and Arthur. The plan has been delayed, because I could not make satisfactory business arrangements. Now, however, that difficulty has been overcome, and I propose to sail in about two weeks.”
“I hope you’ll enjoy your trip, sir.”
“Thank you. Of course it will terminate, for a time at least your engagement to teach Arthur.”
“I shall be sorry for that, sir, but I am not selfish enough to want you to stay at home on that account.”
“I thought you would feel that way. I wish I could procure you another position before I go, but that is uncertain. I shall, however, pay you a month’s salary in advance in lieu of a notice.”
“That is very liberal, sir.”
“I think it only just. I have been very well pleased with your attention to Arthur, and I know he has profited by your instructions as well as enjoyed your companionship. I hope you have been able to save something.”
“Yes, sir, I have something in the Union Dime Savings Bank.”
“That’s well. You will remain with me one week longer, but the last week Arthur will need for preparations.”
Two weeks later Rodney stood on the pier and watched the stately Etruria steam out into the river. Arthur and his father were on deck, and the little boy waved his handkerchief to his tutor as long as he could see him.
Rodney turned away sadly.
“I have lost a good situation,” he soliloquized. “When shall I get another?”
CHAPTER XXI
CONTINUED ILL LUCK
Rodney set himself to work searching for a new situation. But wherever he called he found Some one ahead of him. At length he saw an advertisement for an entry clerk in a wholesale house in Church Street. He applied and had the good fortune to please the superintendent.
“Where have you worked before?” he asked.
“At Otis Goodnow’s, on Reade Street.”
“How much were you paid there?”
“Seven dollars a week.”
“Very well, we will start you on that salary, and see if you earn it.”
Rodney was surprised and relieved to find that he was not asked for a recommendation from Mr. Goodnow, knowing that he could not obtain one. He went to work on a Monday morning, and found his duties congenial and satisfactory.
Seven dollars a week was small, compared with what he had received as a tutor, but he had about two hundred and fifty dollars in the Union Dime Savings Bank and drew three dollars from this fund every week in order that he might still assist Mike, whose earnings were small.
One of his new acquaintances in the store was James Hicks, a boy about a year older than himself.
“Didn’t you use to work at Otis Goodnow’s?” asked James one day when they were going to lunch.
“Yes.”
“I know a boy employed there. He is older than either of us.”
“Who is it?”
“Jasper Redwood. Of course you know him.”
“Yes,” answered Rodney with a presentiment of evil.
He felt that it would be dangerous to have Jasper know of his present position, but did not venture to give a hint of this to James.
His fears were not groundless. Only the day after James met Jasper on the street.
“Anything new?” asked Jasper.
“Yes; we’ve got one of your old friends in our store.”
“Who is it?”
“Rodney Ropes.”
Jasper stopped short, and whistled. He was excessively surprised, as he supposed Rodney still to be Arthur Sargent’s tutor.
“You don’t mean it?” he ejaculated.
“Why not? Is there anything so strange about it?”
“Yes. Did Ropes bring a recommendation from Mr. Goodnow?”
“I suppose so. I don’t know.”
“If he did, it’s forged.”
“Why should it be?”
“Goodnow wouldn’t give him a recommendation.”
“Why wouldn’t he?”
“Because he discharged Ropes. Do you want to know why?”
“Yes.”
“For stealing articles from the store.”
It was the turn of James Hicks to be surprised.
“I can’t believe it,” he said.
“Its true. Just mention the matter to Ropes, and you’ll see he won’t deny it.”
“I think there must be some mistake about it. Rodney doesn’t look like a fellow that would steal.”
“Oh, you can’t tell from appearances—Rogues are always plausible.”
“Still mistakes are sometimes made. I’d trust Rodney Ropes sooner than any boy I know.”
“You don’t know him as well as I do.”
“You don’t like him?” said James shrewdly.
“No I don’t. I can’t like a thief.”
“You talk as if you had a grudge against him.”
“Nothing but his being a thief. Well, what are you going to do about it?”
“About what?”
“What I have just told you.”
“I don’t feel that I have any call to do anything.”
“You ought to tell your employer.”
“I am no telltale,” said James scornfully.
“Then you will let him stay in the store, knowing him to be a thief?”
“I don’t know him to be a thief. If he steals anything it will probably be found out.”
Jasper urged James to give information about Rodney, but he steadily refused.
“I leave others to do such dirty work,” he said, “and I don’t think any better of you, let me tell you, for your eagerness to turn the boy out of his position.”
“You are a queer boy.”
“Think so if you like,” retorted Hicks. “I might give my opinion of you.”
At this point Jasper thought it best to let the conversation drop. He was much pleased to learn that Rodney had lost his fine position as tutor, and was now in a place from which he might more easily be ousted.
As he could not prevail upon James Hicks to betray Rodney he decided to write an anonymous letter to the firm that employed him.
The result was that the next afternoon Rodney was summoned to the office.
“Sit down Ropes,” said the superintendent. “For what store did you work before you came into our house?”
“Otis Goodnow’s.”
“Under what circumstances did you leave?”
“I was accused of theft.”
“You did not mention this matter when you applied for a situation here.”
“No, sir. I ought perhaps to have done so, but I presumed in that case you would not have given me a place.”
“You are right he would not.”
“Nor would I have applied had the charge been a true one. Articles were certainly missing from Mr. Goodnow’s stock, but in accusing me they did me a great injustice.”
“How long since you left Mr. Goodnow’s?”
“Four months.”
“What have you been doing since?”
“I was acting as tutor to the son of Mr. Sargent, of West Fifty Eighth Street.”
“A well known citizen. Then you are a scholar?”
“Yes, sir, I am nearly prepared for college.”
“Of course he did not know you were suspected of dishonesty.”
“On the contrary he did know it. I told him, and later he received an anonymous letter, notifying him of the fact.”
“We also have received an anonymous letter. Here it is. Do you recognize the hand writing?”
“Yes,” answered Rodney after examining the letter. “It was written by Jasper Redwood.”
“Who is he?”
“A boy employed by Mr. Goodnow. For some reason he seems to have a spite against me.”
“I admit that it is pretty small business to write an anonymous letter calculated to injure another. Still we shall have to take notice of this.”
“Yes, sir, I suppose so.”
“I shall have to bring it to the notice of the firm. What they may do I don’t know. If the matter was to be decided by me I would let you stay.”
“Thank you, sir,” said Rodney gratefully.
“But I am not Mr. Hall. You can go now and I will see you again.”
Rodney left the office fully persuaded that his engagement would speedily terminate. He was right; the next day he was sent for again.
“I am sorry to tell you, Ropes,” said the superintendent kindly “that Mr. Hall insists upon your being discharged. He is a nervous man and rather suspicious. I spoke in your favor but I could not turn him.”
“At any rate I am grateful to you for your friendly effort.”
The superintendent hesitated a moment, and then said: “Will this discharge seriously embarrass you? Are you short of money?”
“No, sir. I was very liberally paid by Mr. Sargent, and I saved money. I have enough in the savings bank to last me several months, should I be idle so long.”
“I am glad of it. I hope you will remember, my boy, that this is none of my doing. I would gladly retain you. I will say one thing more, should Jasper Redwood ever apply for a situation here, his name will not be considered.”
So Rodney found himself again without a position. It seemed hard in view of his innocence, but he had confidence to believe that something would turn up for him as before. At any rate he had enough money to live on for some time.
When Mike Flynn learned the circumstances of his discharge he was very angry.
“I’d like to meet Jasper Redwood,” he said, his eyes flashing. “If I didn’t give him a laying out then my name isn’t Mike Flynn.”
“I think he will get his desert some time, Mickey, without any help from you or me.”
“Should hope he will. And what’ll you do now, Rodney?”
“I don’t know. Sometimes I think it would be well to go to some other city, Boston or Philadelphia, where Jasper can’t get on my track.”
“Should hope you won’t do it. I can’t get along widout you.”
“I will stay here for a few weeks, Mike, and see if anything turns up.”
“I might get you in as a telegraph boy.”
“That wouldn’t suit me. It doesn’t pay enough.”
Rodney began to hunt for a situation again, but four weeks passed and brought him no success. One afternoon about four o’clock he was walking up Broadway when, feeling tired, he stepped into the Continental Hotel at the corner of Twentieth Street.
He took a seat at some distance back from the door, and in a desultory way began to look about him. All at once he started in surprise, for in a man sitting in one of the front row of chairs he recognized Louis Wheeler, the railroad thief who had stolen his box of jewelry.
Wheeler was conversing with a man with a large flapping sombrero, and whose dress and general appearance indicated that he was a Westerner.
Rodney left his seat and going forward sat down in the chair behind Wheeler. He suspected that the Western man was in danger of being victimized.
