Alger Horatio Jr.
Making His Mark
CHAPTER X
GERALD FINDS A SYMPATHIZING FRIEND
"There is very little chance of my going to college, Mr. Nugent," answered Gerald.
"Why not?" asked the old gentleman, in evident surprise. "Your father always intended that you should go. He has told me so more than once."
"Did he tell you so within a short time of his death?" asked Gerald, earnestly.
"Yes; he referred to it as a settled thing."
"He left all his property to Mrs. Lane, and I am dependent upon her."
"That is strange. But surely she, knowing your father's intentions—"
"She has decided that I am to enter the employment of Mr. Tubbs, the grocer," said Gerald, bitterly.
"But this is positively shameful!" said the old gentleman, warmly.
"I say so, too, squire," put in Alonzo. "Melindy's my sister, but that don't hinder me from sayin' that she is treatin' Gerald meanly. She has put her own boy in his place, though he's no kith nor kin of the man from whom her money comes."
"Is there another boy, then? I have never seen him."
"She didn't send for him till after Mr. Lane's death. Like as not he never knew that she had a son. Melindy's sly, and always was."
"I am not sure that I ever spoke to Mrs. Lane, though her husband was one of my few friends," said John Nugent. "As you yourself criticise her, I will not hesitate to condemn her conduct. What I cannot understand is the manner in which Gerald has been left out of the will."
"It does look cur'ous, squire."
"I suppose it will be very disagreeable for you to enter Mr. Tubbs's store, Gerald?"
"Yes, sir. I am not afraid of work, but that is about the last position which I should have selected for myself."
"No doubt. Mr. Tubbs is an ignorant and illiterate man, and your education will be thrown away in his store. I have a great mind to call on your stepmother and protest against her treatment of you."
"Thank you very much, Mr. Nugent; but I don't think it would do any good. I have sometimes thought I would leave Portville and try to make my own way in the world."
"Shall I offer you some advice, my young friend?"
"I wish you would, sir. I am too young to decide what I ought to do."
"Then enter Mr. Tubbs' store for a time, even if it is disagreeable to you. Try the experiment, and see how your stepmother treats you. I shall be glad if you will call on me after a time and report. I was your father's friend, and I have reason to be yours. You have done me a great service to-day which I am not likely to forget."
The old gentleman spoke warmly. Gerald was surprised, for until to-day he had scarcely spoken a word to Mr. Nugent, who had made himself a recluse, and was, perhaps, less known to his neighbors than any man in the village. Now it seemed that he had a good heart and warm sympathies for others.
"Thank you very much, Mr. Nugent," said Gerald. "It's a comfort to me to think I have one friend who was also a friend of my father."
"You can rely upon my friendship, Gerald," said the old man, kindly.
"I shall remember your kindness, Mr. Nugent, and I will call upon you soon. I am expected to go to work for Mr. Tubbs on Monday."
Soon afterward Mr. Crane and Gerald left the house and returned home. They found Abel and his mother sitting at the table in the sitting-room. They looked up with some curiosity as the two entered.
"How did you enjoy your call, Alonzo?" asked his sister.
"I had good reason to enjoy it," said the blacksmith.
"Did he give you anything for putting out the fire?"
"Yes."
"As much as five dollars?"
"The squire is a liberal man. He gave me enough to rebuild my shop."
"What!" exclaimed Mrs. Lane in incredulous amazement.
"I've got in my pocket a check for three hundred dollars, Melindy."
"And won't you have to pay it back?" asked Abel.
"No; it's a free gift. It was a lucky day when I decided to come to Portville, even if my own sister did go back on me."
"It was out of my power to help you, Alonzo, but I am glad you have been so fortunate."
"How much did he give you?" asked Abel, turning to Gerald.
"He did not offer me anything. It was your uncle who saved his life."
"He might have given you a dollar or two," said Abel; but in his heart he was glad that Gerald was not remembered.
"I would not have accepted it."
"I would. I wouldn't be such an idiot as to refuse money when it was offered to me."
"You spoke the truth that time, Abel," said Alonzo, with a meaning smile. "I never knew you to refuse anything."
When it was half-past nine Mrs. Lane said:
"We go to bed early here, Alonzo. I suppose you will want to take an early start in the morning?"
"Yes, Melindy; I didn't come here to make you a long visit."
Even if he had, it was clear that this would not have been agreeable to Mrs. Lane.
"Abel," she said, "will you show your uncle up to the small chamber in the attic, next to Ann's room?"
Ann was the servant.
Gerald was a little surprised, as there was a larger room on the second floor. Mrs. Lane clearly did not intend to treat her brother as company.
"I don't want to go, ma," grumbled Abel.
"I will show Mr. Crane the way to his room," said Gerald, quickly.
"Very well."
A small kerosene lamp was lighted and Gerald led the way up the two flights of stairs.
There were two rooms adjoining at one end of the attic. They were small and had dormer windows. In each was a cot bed about two feet wide.
"Is this the spare room, Gerald?" asked Mr. Crane, with a smile.
"Your sister doesn't treat you with much ceremony, Mr. Crane."
"No, that ain't Melindy's way. Howsomever I reckon I can sleep pretty sound in this little bed, if I don't tumble out."
"I hope you are not sorry for your visit"
"Sorry? I reckon not, when I carry back money enough to rebuild my shop—no thanks to Melindy, though."
"Well, I will bid you good night, and wish you a sound sleep."
"Thank you, Gerald. The same to you, my boy!"
Gerald went down-stairs and found Mrs. Lane and Abel preparing to go to bed. He took a lamp and went up-stairs. From the force of habit he was about to go into the room which had always been his, but remembered himself in time and turned into the little bedroom. He heard Abel moving about in his old room, and his thoughts were bitter.
"My place is taken by a stranger," he said. "How long shall I be able to stand it? Once I had a home, but now all is changed!"
Gerald may be pardoned for feeling melancholy. The death of his father had made a great change for him. But the most bitter thought was that all this had happened with the concurrence of his father. He might easily have been provided for and made independent of his stepmother, but this had not been done. Now, as he looked forward, his prospects seemed far from bright. Though his father had died rich, he was penniless and had his own way to make. However, Gerald had a healthy nature and he did not allow sad thoughts long to hold sway over him.
He was soon sound asleep.
How long he slept he did not know, but suddenly he became wide awake. His hearing was keen and he seemed to hear something moving in the next room.
"Is Abel up, I wonder?" he said to himself.
Just then he heard a scream, and, bounding out of bed, he dashed into the next room.
There in the faint light—for there was a moon—he saw a dark figure bending over the bed. The intruder looked like a tramp, and was grasping Abel by the throat.
"Shut up, you viper!" he exclaimed. "If you don't I'll choke you!"
Gerald comprehended the situation. The intruder was a burglar, who had been interrupted in his work by Abel's outcry, and was trying to stifle his screams.
CHAPTER XI
THE BURGLAR'S DEFEAT
Gerald did not pause to notice that the intruder was a man much larger than himself. He had plenty of courage, and lost sight of prudence. He sprang forward and seized the burglar.
The latter, turning at this unexpected attack, threw him off. He was alarmed at first, but when he saw that his assailant was only a boy he laughed harshly.
"Why, you little bantam!" he exclaimed, "how dare you interfere with me?"
"You had better leave the room at once," said Gerald, undaunted. "If you don't–"
"Well, if I don't!" repeated the intruder, mockingly. "You'll make me, perhaps? Clear out of my way! Have you got a watch or money about your clothes?"
This last was addressed to Abel.
"Don't kill me, Mr. Burglar!" wailed Abel, ready to cry. "I'll give you all I have."
"Then be quick about it! Where are your clothes?"
"In the closet."
"Then get them, and don't waste any time about it."
"Don't do anything of the sort, Abel!" said Gerald. "This man shall not rob you!"
"Why, you impudent young rascal!" exclaimed the intruder, fiercely. "I have a great mind to wring your neck!"
"I tell you once more to leave the house!"
This was too much for the irascible burglar. He seized Gerald, and, throwing him down, pressed his knee on his breast. Gerald struggled as well as he could, but he was only a boy, and his assailant was a strong man. What harm would have been done to him cannot be known. Abel, so far from helping him, stood by, trembling. Finally, in a paroxysm of fear, he ran from the room and locked himself in the small room which had been occupied by Gerald.
"Now what shall I do to you?" demanded the burglar between his closed teeth, glaring at his prostrate victim.
Gerald was not called upon to reply, for there was help at hand.
A tall, muscular figure, arrayed in night-costume, suddenly dashed into the room, seized the triumphant burglar, and, pulling him back with irresistible strength, threw him upon the floor with such force that he thought his back was broken.
"What–!" ejaculated the ruffian, in mingled surprise and dismay.
Looking up he saw the blacksmith bending over him.
"What are you doing, you scoundrel?" he cried, apparently preparing for a second attack.
"Who are you?" growled the intruder.
"I'm not a boy, and I'm more than a match for you!"
"Let me go!" said the other, beginning to find a retreat advisable.
"Not till I see who you are. Gerald, light the lamp; I want to take a look at this man's face."
The burglar struggled to rise, but he was as helpless in the grasp of the stalwart blacksmith as Gerald had been in his.
Gerald lighted the lamp and held it near the ill-favored countenance of the visitor.
"Aha, I know you!" said Alonzo Crane. "You are the man who broke into a store in Hillsdale last week. You got away from us then, but now I mean to have a settlement with you."
"Let me go this time and I won't take anything."
"I don't think you will. As long as I am round you'd find it a hard job to rob this house. You thought you had only boys to deal with, but I'm too large a boy for you to handle."
"If you don't let me go I'll fix you some day."
"That'll be day after to-morrow, I reckon. Gerald, do you know where there is a clothes-line?"
"Yes, Mr. Crane."
"Then get it, and I'll bind this man so that he can't do any more harm."
Gerald took the lamp, went down-stairs, and soon returned with the clothes-line.
"Now, if you'll help me, I'll tie this fellow so he can't do any mischief."
Despite his desperate struggles the intruder was bound hand and foot. He almost foamed at the mouth in his ungovernable anger, but it did no good.
"Now," said the blacksmith, "I am going to put him in the closet and lock the door. If you don't mind, Gerald, I'll exchange rooms with you. I will sleep here, and you can go up to my room in the attic. I think, my friend, you'll be safe till morning."
"This is Abel's room, Mr. Crane."
"And where is Abel?"
"I don't know. I think he went into the next room."
"Let him stay there! He is about as brave as a mouse. And hark you, Gerald, bring down my clothes. I have a revolver in my pocket that I may have occasion to use."
The ruffian was thoroughly cowed, and made no outcry when he was thrust into the closet.
It was remarkable that Mrs. Lane should have slept through all this disturbance without awaking, but she was a sound sleeper. In the morning Gerald went out to summon assistance, and the burglar was conveyed to the lock-up, from which he was in the afternoon transferred to the county jail.
It appears that he had gained admittance to the house by climbing the lightning-rod to a balcony just outside the window of the large room occupied by Abel. The latter was so thoroughly frightened by the events of the night that he voluntarily proposed to return to the small bedroom, and Gerald was able again to occupy his own room. Mrs. Lane protested against the change, but Abel declared with emphasis that he would not again sleep in the large room.
"I wouldn't do it for a dollar a night!" he declared.
Gerald acquiesced in the new arrangement, and felt grateful to the burglar for having been the means of restoring to him his own room.
A little later than he anticipated Mr. Crane left Portville.
"Good-by, Melindy," he said. "I've enjoyed my visit, and the burglar made it more lively than I anticipated. When are you coming to Hillsdale to see us?"
"It is hard for me to get away, Alonzo. I have two boys to look after and I cannot well be spared."
"Come whenever it is convenient, then. I can't promise to make your visit as lively as mine has been, unless my friend the burglar manages to escape from jail."
"I will go with you to the cars, Mr. Crane," said Gerald.
"I wish you would," said the blacksmith, warmly. "If you ever find it in your way to come to Hillsdale, I will give you the best room in the house."
"Shall I bring Abel with me?" asked Gerald, smiling.
"I'm not at all particular about seein' him. You seem a good deal nearer to me than he does, even if he is a blood relation. When do you go to work?"
"On Monday."
"You won't stay in the grocery long—I'll predict that. If you ever have a notion of becomin' a blacksmith, I'll take you into my employ, and be glad to do it."
"I'll bear it in mind, Mr. Crane."
When the train had started and his new friend was fairly on his way home, Gerald could not help thinking soberly of his own unpromising future. If Mrs. Lane had been more like her brother, rough and uneducated as he was, he felt that he could like her better. He at least had a good heart.
On his way home he met Mr. Nugent.
"Good morning, Gerald," said the old gentleman, in a friendly tone. "Have you had any more exciting experiences?"
"Yes, sir. Last night our house was entered by a burglar."
"Indeed! That is something new for Portville. Did he take anything?"
"No; he was taken himself."
"Surely you were not a match for him?"
"No, sir; but Mr. Crane captured him, and he is now in the lock-up."
"Ah, yes; our good friend the blacksmith. He is a muscular man."
"He is going home happy with the check that you gave him."
"I was glad to be of service to him, as he in all probability saved my life. But I have not done anything for you. You must apply to me whenever you need assistance. Do you go into Mr. Tubbs's store on Monday?"
"Yes, sir."
"Come round next Saturday evening and tell me how you like it. I was your father's friend; I shall be glad if you will consider me yours."
"I shall be very glad to do so, Mr. Nugent," said Gerald, earnestly.
"Who was that you were talking with?" asked Abel, whom he met a minute later.
"Mr. Nugent."
"The rich man? Why didn't you introduce me?"
"I will some time if I have the opportunity."
"You are going to work Monday, ma tells me."
"Yes."
"She says a grocery store will be a good place for you."
"Would you like it?"
"No. I'm going to be a lawyer or a civil engineer—I haven't decided which."
Gerald smiled. He had very little faith in Abel's ever being either.
CHAPTER XII
A GROCER'S CLERK
Early Monday morning Gerald went over to Mr. Tubbs's grocery store and reported for duty. The grocer gave him some instructions as to the prices of leading commodities, and he took his place behind the counter. There was a young man of twenty-one in the grocer's employ—a cousin of Mrs. Tubbs's, named Charles Brandon. He was rather an unattractive-looking young man, with a pimply face, and small eyes with a shifting expression. Gerald already knew him slightly, but did not like him. Twice he had seen him under the influence of liquor and knew that he frequented a billiard-room in the village patronized by a low class of young men.
"So we are going to be fellow-clerks, eh?" said Brandon, with a disagreeable smile.
"I suppose so."
"I always looked upon you as one of the tip-tops! I never thought you would be willing to become a boy in a grocery!"
"I am not willing."
"Then why did you come?"
"I am not my own master. Mrs. Lane, my stepmother, made the arrangement with Mr. Tubbs."
"I expect you feel above it?"
"I don't say that, but it's not to my taste."
"How much will you get?"
Gerald had no objection to tell, and answered, quietly: "Three dollars a week."
"That ain't much. I get six and my board. You know, I board with Mr. Tubbs. I'm a cousin of Mrs. Tubbs."
"Do you like it?"
"No; I have too much looking after. When a man is my age, he doesn't want to be interfered with."
"No one likes to be interfered with."
"Just so. I see you and I will get along first-rate."
As the morning advanced Gerald found himself quite busy. It was awkward at first to weigh butter and sugar and other articles that were called for, but he was quick, and soon "got the hang" of his new duties.
Early in the afternoon he was introduced to the books of the concern, and found them in a mixed-up state, as neither Mr. Tubbs nor his chief salesman knew anything about book-keeping. He suggested to the grocer to buy a new set of books, which he agreed to do.
About supper time his friend John Holman came into the store, and Gerald weighed out for him two pounds of sugar.
"It seems odd to see you behind the counter, Gerald," he said.
"It seems so to me."
"How do you like it?"
"I don't like it very well, but I have hardly been here long enough to judge."
"It's a shame that you should fill such a position with all your book learning."
Gerald smiled.
"I shan't have much use for my French and Latin here," he said. "Suppose I make them over to you!"
"They wouldn't help me in pegging shoes, Gerald. But never mind; the time will come when you will find them useful. You won't stay here all your life."
"I certainly hope not."
Just then Abel entered the store.
He looked about him till he saw Gerald and a smile lighted up his face.
"Ma wants you to bring home four pounds of butter when you come to supper," he said. "Here's a tin pail to put it in."
"Why don't you take it yourself?" asked John.
"Because I don't choose to," answered Abel, superciliously.
"I will take it," said Gerald, quietly.
At this moment the grocer came round to where he was standing.
"You can go to supper, Gerald," he said.
Gerald put up the butter, and went out with John Holman.
"How can you stand Abel's insolence?" asked John, hotly.
"Because I despise him. He is only acting according to his nature. He is what the English call a cad."
"He thinks himself superior to you."
"He is probably alone in that opinion, and I don't mind what he thinks."
In the evening, when the store closed, Brandon said to him:
"Come round to the billiard-room and play a game with me, Gerald."
"Thank you, but I don't play billiards."
"I will teach you. You will learn easily."
"How much does it cost?"
"Twenty-five cents a game."
"My salary is so small that I can't afford it."
"Well, come in at any rate and see the playing."
To this Gerald assented. He had never entered the room and had some curiosity to see it. Accordingly he went in and found a collection of village roughs. Brandon entered a game then being played, and Gerald sat down and looked on.
At one end of the room was a bar, to which the players adjourned at intervals.
"Won't you have something, Gerald?" asked Brandon, whose turn came to treat at the end of the first game.
"No, thank you."
"I won't tell your ma," said his fellow-clerk, with a smile.
"I am not sure that she would care, but I would rather not drink."
"I see you haven't graduated from Sunday school," said Brandon, with a little sneer.
Gerald did not answer, nor did he heed the sneer.
He observed that when Brandon paid for the drinks and the game in which he was a loser, he handed the bartender a five-dollar bill and thrust the change carelessly into his vest-pocket with the air of a millionaire. Considering the moderate pay he received, Gerald was surprised at the freedom with which he spent his money.
At the end of half an hour he left the billiard-room and went home.
Mrs. Lane and Abel were still up.
"Here comes the young grocer!" said Abel, with a malicious smile.
"Are you just out of the store?" asked Mrs. Lane.
"No. I walked awhile with Mr. Brandon, the head clerk."
"How do you like it as far as you've got?" asked Abel.
"I don't like it."
"I suppose you would rather be at school."
"I certainly should."
"Yes; it would be easier."
"That is not my reason."
"What is your reason?"
"I think I am wasting my time in a grocery store."
"You get paid for it, don't you?"
"Yes; I shall be paid a small sum."
"Abel," said his mother, "I don't care to have you talk with Gerald on this subject. As he goes on he will get contented and will see that I have planned for the best. Now, as it is near ten o'clock, we may as well go to bed."
The next morning Gerald rose earlier than the rest of the family and breakfasted by himself. It was a comfort to him to occupy his own bedchamber. Abel had been so thoroughly frightened by the visit of the burglar that he absolutely refused to occupy the large room, though urged to do so by his mother, who did not like to think that he was less luxuriously provided for than Gerald.
"Well, how did you make out, Mr. Brandon?" asked Gerald, of his fellow-clerk.
"I had bad luck. I spent over two dollars last evening."
"It wouldn't do for me to spend so much. I only receive three dollars a week."
"I couldn't get along without the billiard-room. After standing all day in this dull store I need a little recreation."
Gerald could not understand how Brandon could afford to spend so much money in the evening, or how he could have anything left for clothing and necessary expenses.
During the day he overheard a conversation between Mr. Tubbs and a neighbor.
"How is business, Tubbs?" asked the latter.
"I seem to do a good business," answered the grocer, "yet, I don't know how it is, I find it very hard to meet my bills as they come due."
"You are looked upon as a driving man."
"I ought to be, but it is as I told you. I can't understand it. There have been times when I did less business and made more money."
"Perhaps you don't make as large profits?"
"Yes, I do. I sell at the same prices, and I don't pay any more for goods."
Gerald thought over this problem, and it puzzled him too. It set him to examining the books which were under his charge. The result was very favorable to the business. From the books, it should have paid well.
But the next day a startling light was thrown upon the mystery.
Gerald saw Brandon go to the money-drawer to deposit fifty cents, which he had received in payment for some groceries. He did deposit it, but at the same time he slyly drew out a bill which he carried away with him.
"That explains it!" thought Gerald, drawing a deep breath. "What ought I to do?"
