Alger Horatio Jr.
Walter Sherwood's Probation
CHAPTER XVI
WALTER GOES INTO A NEW BUSINESS
One swallow doesn’t make a summer, and one policy doesn’t establish the success of an insurance agent. Walter received from Mr. Perkins five dollars commission on the policy he had written at Elm Bank, and this encouraged him to renewed efforts. But in the fortnight following he only succeeded in writing a policy for two hundred and fifty dollars, for a man who designed it to meet his funeral expenses. For this Walter received one dollar and a quarter. He made numerous other attempts, but he found, though he understood the subject thoroughly, that his youth operated against him. He decided that he was wasting his time, and one morning he waited on Mr. Perkins and resigned his agency.
“Have you anything else in view?” asked that gentleman.
“No, sir.”
“Then why don’t you keep on till you have secured another position?”
“Because it takes up my time, and prevents my getting anything else.”
“I don’t know but you are right, Mr. Sherwood. You have made a good beginning, and if you were ten years older I think you would make a successful agent.”
“I can’t afford to wait ten years,” returned Walter, with a smile.
“If ever you want to come back, I will start you again.”
Walter thanked Mr. Perkins, and left the office.
He now began to explore the columns of the daily papers, in the hope of finding some opening, but met with the usual rebuffs and refusals when he called upon advertisers.
At length he saw the following advertisement in the Chicago Tribune:
“WANTED—A confidential clerk at a salary of fifteen dollars per week. As a guarantee of fidelity, a small deposit will be required. LOCKE & GREEN, No. 257 1-2 State Street.”
“Fifteen dollars a week!” repeated Walter hopefully. “That will support me very comfortably. If I get it I will change my boarding-place, for I don’t like Mrs. Canfield’s table. I shall feel justified in paying a little more than I do now.”
The only thing that troubled him was as to the deposit. Though he had economized as closely as he knew how, he had made quite an inroad upon his small capital, and had only forty-six dollars left. He had been in Chicago four weeks, and had not yet been able to write home that he had found a permanent position. He had written about his insurance agency, and had not failed to chronicle his first success.
This letter Doctor Mack had read to his housekeeper, Miss Nancy Sprague.
“Well, Nancy,” he said, “Walter is at work.”
“You don’t say so, doctor! What is he doing?”
“He is a life-insurance agent.”
“Is that a good business?”
“Walter writes that one agent is making a hundred and twenty-five dollars a week,” answered the doctor, with a humorous twinkle in his eye.
“I’m glad Master Walter has got such a good business,” said the housekeeper, brightening up. “That’s a great sum for a boy like him to make.”
“It isn’t he that has made it, Nancy. There are very few that do, and those have to be old and experienced men.”
“Well, he’ll make a good living, anyhow.”
“Perhaps so,” answered the doctor dubiously, for he understood better than Nancy how precarious were the chances of an inexperienced agent. He was not at all surprised when Walter wrote later that though he had met with some success, he thought it better to look for a situation with a regular salary attached.
“He’s gaining a little knowledge of the world,” thought the guardian. “I don’t think he’ll be able to indulge in luxurious living for the present. It won’t be long, probably, before he runs out of money.”
It was with a hopeful spirit that Walter started for the office of Locke & Green. He was pretty well acquainted with Chicago by this time, and had no difficulty in locating any office in the business part of the city.
No indication was given in the advertisement of the business carried on by Locke & Green. As to that, however, Walter felt indifferent. His chief concern was the weekly salary of fifteen dollars, which he needed very much.
Arrived at the number indicated, Walter ran upstairs, and with some difficulty found the office in a small room on the fourth floor. A card on the door bore the names:
LOCKE & GREEN
Again there was no clue to the business carried on by the firm.
Walter was not sure whether he ought to knock, but finally decided to open the door and enter. He found himself in a room scarcely larger than a small bedroom, with a small desk in one corner. At this sat a man with long hair, industriously writing in a large blank book. He glanced at Walter as the door opened.
“Wait a moment, young man!” he said, in a deep bass voice. “I will be at leisure in two minutes.”
He wrinkled up his face, turned back several pages, appeared thoughtfully considering some problem, and then wrote again rapidly.
Finally he turned—he was seated in a revolving chair—and placing his two hands together, palms inward, said abruptly: “Well, young man, what can I do for you?”
“I believe you advertised in the Tribune this morning for a confidential clerk?”
“Yes.”
“I should like to apply for the position, if it is still vacant.”
“We have not yet filled the place,” said Mr. Locke. “We have had several applications, but the post is a very responsible one, and we are, of course, very particular.”
“I am afraid my chance is very small, then,” thought Walter.
“Still, I like your appearance, and it is possible that you may suit. Have you business experience?”
“Not much, sir. Indeed, till a short time since I was a college student.”
“Yale or Harvard?”
“No, sir; Euclid College.”
“Ahem; small, but very respectable. Your name?”
“Walter Sherwood.”
“How long were you in college?”
“Two years.”
“Left of your own accord?”
“Oh, yes, sir.”
“Just so. I thought perhaps you might have been suspended or expelled.”
“I can refer you on that point to the president or any of the professors.”
“Oh, I will take your word for it.”
“I left college on account of losing my property.”
“Ah, indeed!” said Mr. Locke doubtfully. “Perhaps you noticed that we require a small deposit as a guarantee of fidelity.”
“Yes, sir. I have a little money.”
Mr. Locke looked relieved.
“Of course,” continued he loftily, “doing the business we do, money is of comparatively little importance to us, except as a guarantee of fidelity. How much did you say you had?”
“I didn’t say, sir. I could deposit twenty-five dollars with you.”
Mr. Locke shrugged his shoulders.
“That is very little,” he said.
“True, sir, but it is a good deal to me. It will be enough to insure my fidelity.”
“We had a young man here this morning,” said Mr. Locke musingly, “who was willing to deposit a hundred dollars with us.”
“Indeed, sir! I wonder you did not take him.”
“We should, so far as the money went, but I could see by his appearance that there was no business in him. Our clerk must be quick, sharp, alert. The young man was very much disappointed.”
“I couldn’t deposit any such sum as that, Mr. Locke.”
“It will not be necessary. Still, twenty-five dollars is very small. You couldn’t say thirty, could you? That is merely equal to two weeks’ salary.”
“Yes, sir. I might be willing to deposit thirty dollars. May I ask what business you are interested in?”
“We have control for the Western States of a valuable patent—a folding-table—and we have several hundred agents out, who report in general by letter.”
“That accounts for the small office,” thought Walter.
“Come here a moment, and I will give you an idea how we carry on business. Here, for instance, is a page devoted to B. Schenck. He is operating for us in Minnesota. You will observe that his remittances for the last four weeks aggregate three hundred and sixty-seven dollars. He has been doing very well, but we have others who do better. On the next page is our account with G. Parker. His month’s work amounts to two hundred and eighty-nine dollars.”
“What would my duties be, sir?”
“To keep the office when I am out, receive letters, and answer them, and see agents.”
“I think I could do that, sir.”
“Hours from nine to five. I think you will suit me. If at the end of the week I don’t find you satisfactory, I will pay you your wages and return your money.”
“Very well, sir. I accept the position.”
“You may as well hand me the money, and go to work to-day.” Walter drew out thirty dollars, the greater part of his little store, and handed it to Mr. Locke.
Mr. Locke tucked it carelessly into his vest pocket, and taking his hat said: “Sit down here, and if any agents come in, tell them I will be back at one o’clock. That is all you will need to do to-day.”
CHAPTER XVII
WALTER’S VISITORS
Walter sat down at the desk complacently. He had parted with thirty dollars, but it was on deposit with his new employer, and would be returned to him whenever his engagement terminated. He only hoped that his services would prove satisfactory. He meant to do his best. On fifteen dollars a week he could live very comfortably, and even save money. He felt that it would be prudent to do this, as he did not wish to call upon his guardian for any remittances during the year.
“I sha’n’t have to work very hard,” thought Walter.
In default of any other employment he looked over the large ledger committed to his charge. It appeared to contain certain accounts with different agents, all of whom seemed to be meeting with very good success, judging from the amount of remittances credited to them.
In about half-an-hour there was a knock at the door.
“Come in!” called out Walter.
A man of about thirty-five entered briskly. He was rather shabbily dressed, and his red face indicated possible indulgence in intoxicating liquor. “Is Mr. Locke in?” he asked.
“No, sir.”
“I wanted to see him.”
“I am his confidential clerk,” said Walter proudly. “Are you an agent?”
“Yes, I am an agent. I suppose I ought to see him.”
“He will be back at one o’clock.”
“I can’t stop, as I have been away for some weeks and want to go out and see my family at Barrington.”
“If you wish to leave any message I will give it to Mr. Locke as soon as he returns.”
“Perhaps that will do. My name is Jerome Grigson. Tell Mr. Locke I have met with excellent success in Ohio. In the last four weeks I have sold goods to the amount of four hundred and seventeen dollars.”
“I should think it was doing remarkably well,” observed Walter.
“It is; but any one could sell for Locke business chiefly in Mr. Locke’s hands. How long have you been in the office?”
“Not long,” answered Walter, who did not care to admit that his term of service covered less than an hour.
“You’ve a good place with a rising firm. Mind you keep it!”
“I will try to,” said Walter earnestly.
“They’re square men, Locke & Green. I never worked for squarer men.”
This was pleasant to hear. Walter felt that he Had made no mistake in parting with his thirty Dollars.
“Well, I must be going. Have you taken down my name?”
“Yes, sir; Jerome Grigson.”
“Right. Say, I will look in some time to-morrow and bring in a check for four hundred and seventeen dollars.
“Very well, sir.”
Mr. Grigson left the office. Twenty minutes Later a boy of about his own age opened the door. He glanced at Walter diffidently.
“You advertised for a confidential clerk,” he said. “Is—is the place filled?”
“Yes,” answered Walter, in a tone of satisfaction.
“You don’t want anybody else, do you?” asked the youth, looking disappointed.
“Not at present, but we might be able to employ you as an agent.”
“Is it hard work?
“Well, of course you will have to exert yourself,” said Walter condescendingly, toying with a pen as he spoke, “but successful men can earn good wages with us.”
He was talking as if he was one of the partners, but it is a way young clerks have.
“Are you one of the firm?” asked the young man doubtfully.
“No,” answered Walter, “not exactly. Mr. Locke will be in about one o’clock, and if you will come round a little after that you can talk with him about an agency. I will put in a good word for you,” he added, in a patronizing tone.
“Thank you, sir. I’d like to get a place.”
The youth departed and Walter was left alone. But not for long. A middle-aged man entered and looked inquiringly at Walter.
“Are you Mr. Green?” he asked.
“No, sir.”
“I have seen Mr. Locke, but I thought you might be Mr. Green.”
Walter felt flattered to be taken for one of the firm.
“I am the confidential clerk,” he said. “Can I do anything for you?”
“I wanted to see Mr. Locke and pay him some money.”
“I will take it and receipt for it,” said Walter briskly.
“Well, I suppose that will do, as you are the clerk.”
“What name?” asked Walter, opening the book.
“Jonas Damon. Here is a check on the Corndish National Bank of Illinois for two hundred and twenty-seven dollars. I have made it payable to Locke & Green.”
“All right,” said Walter, in a businesslike tone.
“If you wish to see Mr. Locke he will be in at one o’clock,” he added, as he put the check in his vest pocket.
“No, I am obliged to go out of town in half-an-hour. It isn’t necessary to see him. He would rather see the check.”
Mr. Damon laughed, and so did Walter. It Made him feel quite like a business man to be installed in an office, receiving and crediting checks.
“Have you been long in our employment?” he asked.
“About six months.”
“I hope you have found it satisfactory?”
“Yes, I have made an excellent living. How much salary do you get?”
“Fifteen dollars a week,” answered Walter rather complacently.
“You look like a smart young fellow. You’d easily make double the money as an agent.”
“Thank you for the suggestion. I may undertake that some time. I have been a life-insurance agent.”
“Did it pay?”
“Not as well as I hoped. I think I shall like my present place better.”
“I must be going. Tell Mr. Locke I will be in to-morrow.”
“All right.”
“It is evident,” thought Walter, “that I am in the employ of a substantial and prosperous firm. The duties are certainly very light and pleasant. I am in luck to get a clerkship here. It is rather surprising Mr. Locke didn’t ask for references.”
Then it occurred to him that the deposit was taken as a substitute for references. Then again Walter flattered himself that his personal appearance might have produced a favorable impression upon his employer and had some influence in leading to an engagement.
His next caller was a young man, dark and sallow, with a slight mustache.
“Is this the office of Locke & Green?” he asked.
“Yes, sir.”
“Will you describe Mr. Locke to me?” asked the young man, who appeared to be laboring under some excitement.
Walter was rather surprised at such a request, but complied with it.
“Yes, he’s the man,” said his visitor, slapping his hands together impetuously. “He’s the man that cheated me out of fifty dollars!”
“You must be mistaken,” said Walter. “How did he cheat you out of it?”
“One moment—are you his confidential clerk?”
“Yes.”
“I thought so,” returned the young man, laughing wildly. “So was I.”
“You were his clerk?”
“Yes, for two weeks. I paid him fifty dollars good money as security.”
“You did?” repeated Walter, with some anxiety.
“Yes; at the end of two weeks he told me I would not suit.”
“But he paid you your wages and returned you your money?”
“No, he didn’t!” exploded the young man. “He told me to come round on Monday morning and he would pay me.”
“Well?”
“I called Monday, and he was gone! He had moved, the scoundrel! I should like to choke him!”
“Was it this office?”
“No. Let me see that book! Ah, it is the same that I kept. Have you, too, given him money?”
“I deposited thirty dollars.”
“Ah, it is the same old game! You will never see a cent of it again.”
“But,” said Walter, “I don’t understand. He is doing a good business. I have had calls from two of his agents. One of them handed me this check,” and he drew out the check Mr. Damon had given him.
The young man took it and laughed bitterly.
“I don’t believe there is any such bank,” he said. “I never heard of it.”
“Then why should the agent hand me the check?”
“To pull wool over your eyes. These agents are in league with this man Locke. That wasn’t his name when he engaged me.”
“What was it then?”
“He called himself Libby. Libby & Richmond, that was the name of the firm.”
“What made you think he might have changed his name?”
“Because the advertisement reads the same.”
“And you really think it is the same man?”
“Yes, I feel sure of it.”
“He will be back at one o’clock. If you will wait till then you can see for yourself.”
“I’ll wait!” said the young man, grinding his teeth. “I will confront the swindler face to face. I will demand my money.”
The door opened and some one put in his head, but before Walter or his visitor could see who it was it closed again.
Fifteen minutes later a telegraph boy entered the office.
CHAPTER XVIII
WALTER IS TURNED ADRIFT
“Mr. Sherwood?” said the telegraph messenger inquiringly.
“That is my name,” answered Walter.
“A message for you.”
Walter opened the note, and read as follows:
“I am called out of the city. You may close up at four, and leave the key with the janitor. Report for duty to-morrow morning. LOCKE.”
“What is it?” asked the young man eagerly.
Walter showed him the note.
“It looks to me like some trick,” said the stranger.
“But I don’t see any object in it.”
“He has your thirty dollars.”
“And I have a check for over two hundred.”
“I would rather have the thirty dollars. What shall you do?”
“There is nothing to do but follow directions.”
The young man shrugged his shoulders.
“Then you will come round to-morrow morning?” he said.
“Certainly.”
“I’ll look in upon you. I want to see this Mr. Locke, though I doubt if that is his name.”
Walter was disposed to think the young man too suspicious. He was of a sanguine temperament, and he tried to persuade himself that there was really no good reason to suspect Mr. Locke of unfair dealing. He laid considerable stress upon the favorable reports of the agents who had called upon him during the day.
At length four o’clock came, and he closed up the office, leaving the key with the janitor. He went home, not quite knowing whether he was to be congratulated or not. He decided not to say anything just yet about his engagement, lest it might turn out to be deceptive. Had he been quite sure that it was substantial and to be relied upon, he would have written to his guardian to announce the good news, but he thought it best to wait.
The next morning he went to the office, arriving at the hour agreed upon.
“Please give me the key to Locke & Green’s office,” he said to the janitor.
“Mr. Locke’s given up the room,” was the startling reply.
Walter was dismayed.
“Given up the room! Have you seen him?” he inquired.
“Yes.”
“When?”
“He called yesterday afternoon, an hour after you went away, and got the key from me. In about ten minutes he came down again, carrying a ledger in his hand.
“‘I have taken another office,’ he said. ‘This is not large enough for me.’
“‘Have you told your clerk?’ I asked him.
“‘Yes, I have sent a message to him,’ he replied carelessly.”
Walter sank against the door. He felt limp and helpless. Mr. Locke had gone off, and carried his thirty dollars with him. There was hardly room to doubt that it was a case of deliberate swindling.
True, he had the check in his possession—a check for two hundred and twenty-seven dollars—but, even if it were genuine, it was made out in favor of Locke & Green, and would be of no service to him, though in that case it would insure Mr. Locke’s calling upon him. Should such be the Case, he determined that he would not give up the Check till his thirty dollars were returned.
Walter walked slowly out of the building. When he reached Dearborn Street he went into the office of a private banker, and, showing the check, asked, “Is there any such bank as this?”
“I never heard of any,” said the banker.
Walter turned pale.
“Then you think it is bogus?”
“Very likely. Under what circumstances did you receive it?”
Walter explained.
“I am sorry to say that you are probably the victim of a confidence man, or firm. I think I saw an expose of some similar swindlers in the Inter-Ocean a few weeks since. Did you give the fellow any money?”
“Yes, sir; thirty dollars.”
“You will have to whistle for it, in all probability.”
Walter’s heart felt as heavy as lead. He had less than twenty dollars now, and his small balance would last him less than three weeks. What should he do then? Should he write to his guardian for more money? He hated to do this, and, above all, he hated to confess that he had been victimized.
In the next three days he answered several advertisements, and made personal applications for employment. But no one seemed to want him. In one case he was offered three dollars a week as an office boy, but he had not got quite so low down as to accept this place and salary. It struck Walter as very singular that one who had spent two years at college, and possessed a fair knowledge of Latin, Greek, and mathematics, should be in so little request. He envied the small office boys whom he saw on the street, and even the busy newsboys, who appeared to be making an income. They had work to do, and he had none. He decided that he must reduce his expenses, and accordingly hired a poor hall-bedroom for a dollar and a quarter a week, and took his meals at restaurants.
One day he went into Kinsley’s restaurant, on Adams Street, feeling the need of a good meal, and sat down at a table. He gave his order, and ate his dinner with appetite. He was about to rise from the table when, casting his eye about the room, he started in surprise, as at a neighboring table he saw the familiar face of Mr. Jonas Damon, whose check he held in his pocket.
Instantly his resolve was taken. He would speak to Mr. Damon, and try to ascertain something about the check.
He walked over to the table, and touching Damon on the shoulder, said: “Mr. Damon, I believe?”
The man looked up quickly, and a little change in his countenance showed that he recognised Walter; but he assumed a stolid look, and said: “Were you speaking to me, young man?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What did you call me?”
“Mr. Damon.”
“You’re off the track. That isn’t my name.”
“Perhaps not,” said Walter resolutely; “but when you called at Locke & Green’s office and handed me a check you said your name was Jonas Damon.”
“Ho, ho!” laughed Damon. “So I gave you a check, did I?”
“Yes, for two hundred and twenty-seven dollars.”
“That’s news to me. I’m not in a position to give such checks as that.”
“I have got the check with me now.”
“Why didn’t you cash it?”
“It was not made payable to me.”
“Then why didn’t you give it to the party it was made out to?”
“Because he disappeared.”
“That’s a strange story. Do you know what I think?”
“No; but I should like to.”
“I think you are a confidence man, and are trying to take in a poor countryman. But I’ve read about you fellows in the papers, and I am on my guard. You’d better go away, or I may call a policeman.”
This certainly was turning the tables on Walter with a vengeance. For a fellow like Damon to accuse him of being a confidence man was something like the wolf’s charge against the lamb in AEsop’s fable.
Damon saw that Walter looked perplexed, and followed up the attack.
“If anybody has given you a check,” he said, “I don’t see what you’ve got to complain about. You’d better make use of it if you can.”
“Do you deny that your name is Damon?”
“Of course I do. My name is Kellogg—Nelson Kellogg, of Springfield, Illinois. I am in the city to buy goods.”
“And you don’t know Mr. Locke, of Locke & Green?”
“Never heard of the gentleman. If you’ve got a check of his, you’d better advertise for him. I wish my name was Locke. I shouldn’t mind receiving it myself.”
Here the waiter came up with Mr. Damon’s order, and that gentleman addressed himself to disposing of it.
Walter left the restaurant slowly, and walked in a dejected manner in the direction of the Palmer House. He began to think that he was a failure. When he was a student of Euclid College he was in his own estimation, a person of importance. Now he felt his insignificance. If the world owed him a living, it seemed doubtful if it was inclined to pay the debt.
