The Telegraph Boy by Jr. Horatio Alger (ebook reader for laptop txt) 📕

is that possible," he inquired, "since he has met his payments promptly?"

"You have personally seen to the packing of Mr. Davis's goods, I believe, Mr. Haynes?"

"Well—generally," stammered the rather disconcerted clerk.

"At all events, you did so this morning?"

"Ye-es."

"After you started for Brooklyn, I had the case opened, and found some patterns of silk not included in the bill."

"I suppose there was a mistake," said Haynes, turning pale.

"You think this has not happened before?"

"I am sure of it."

"Mr. Haynes," said his employer, sternly, "you may as well drop the mask of innocence. I have been robbed systematically for the last three years, and I now understand how it was done. You and Davis, between you, have plundered me in an exceedingly ingenious manner. It will go hard with you before a jury."

"You won't have me arrested!" exclaimed Haynes, his pallor indicating his dismay.

"Why should I not?"

"You could prove nothing."

"I will take my chance of that. Have you nothing more to say?"

"I—though I do not admit that your charge is correct—I am willing to make over to you the greater part of my property, to avoid the scandal of a trial."

"That will not do, Mr. Haynes. Were I to accept this upon such a ground, you could rightfully bring against me a charge of blackmail."

"What, then, are your terms?" asked Haynes, sullenly.

"You must write out a confession of your guilt, which I shall put among my private papers, and not make public unless necessary, and in addition you must make over to me property to the amount of ten thousand dollars. It will not make up my losses, but I will accept it as restitution in full."

Against this James Haynes most strongly protested, alleging that the sum demanded was far beyond the amount of his purloinings; but finally he yielded, being privately resolved to make his brother-in-law pay one-half of the forfeiture.

"You will leave my service at the end of the week, Mr. Haynes," said his employer, "and during next week you must attend to the transfer."

"How did he find out?" said Haynes to himself, as with grave face he went about the duties of the place he was so soon to leave. "If I could find out, I would have my revenge."

CHAPTER XXIV. AN OPEN ENEMY.

Frank remained with Mr. Hartley till the guilty clerk left the establishment. This was at the special request of the merchant, who did not care to let Mr. Haynes suspect who had been instrumental in bringing his guilt to light.

"I suppose you have no further use for me, now, Mr. Hartley?" said the telegraph boy.

"Not at present, Frank," said his employer, kindly.

"Then I will report for duty at the telegraph office."

"Wait a moment. You have done me a great service."

"I am glad of that sir," answered Frank, modestly.

"You have shown uncommon shrewdness and intelligence."

Frank looked gratified, and expressed his thanks for the compliment.

"I want to make you a present, in addition to the wages which you receive from the office," said Mr. Hartley.

"Thank you, sir."

Mr. Hartley drew from his desk a five-twenty government bond, of one hundred dollars, and handed it to our hero.

"Do you mean all this for me?" asked Frank, quite overwhelmed by the magnitude of the gift.

"It is not more than you deserve. I might have given you the money value of the bond; but I give it to you in this shape, because I hope you will keep it as an investment. It will yield you six dollars interest annually in gold. I hope the time will come when you will have more interest in the same way."

"I hope I shall, sir. I shall feel quite rich now."

"You are richer in the qualities which have won you this acknowledgment. How do you like the telegraph service?"

"Very well, sir, for the present. It is much better than being a newsboy."

"Exactly; but there are positions you would prefer?"

"Yes, sir; I would like to be in some mercantile business, where I might work my way up. In a few years I shall be too old for a telegraph boy, and then I shall be out of place."

"I will relieve your fears on that score. In six months I shall make some changes in the list of employees. When that time comes I will find a place for you."

"There is nothing I should like better, sir," said Frank, his face flushing with pleasure.

"I am satisfied that you will make a useful and intelligent clerk. Until I want you, remain where you are. The discipline of your present office will do you no harm, but will help qualify you for usefulness and success in the mercantile career."

"Thank you, sir. Now I have something to look forward to I shall work much more cheerfully."

Frank went back to the office, and resumed his ordinary duties. One day he was riding down Broadway in a stage, when he became sensible that he had attracted the attention of a gentleman sitting opposite. This led him to scan the face of the man who was observing him. He at once recognized Mr. Haynes.

The stage was not full, and the latter came over, and took a seat next to the telegraph boy.

"Isn't your name Frank Kavanagh?" he asked, abruptly.

"Yes, sir."

"Were you not for a short time in the employ of Mr. Hartley?"

"Yes," answered Frank, feeling embarrassed, for he knew that he was suspected.

"I infer from your uniform that you have left Mr. Hartley."

"Yes."

"Why did you leave him?" asked Haynes, sharply.

"Because he had no further occasion for my services. Why did you leave him?" asked Frank, in turn.

James Haynes colored, and looked angry. However, he answered the question.

"I have other business views," he said, briefly.

"So have I."

The next question was also of an embarrassing character.

"Were you a telegraph boy before you entered Mr. Hartley's employ?"

"I was," answered Frank.

"Were you detailed for duty there?"

Our hero thought that he had answered questions enough by this time, and signified as much to his questioner.

"If I had been," he said, "I shouldn't be permitted to inform a stranger."

"I have particular reasons for asking the question," said Haynes.

"Then you can ask Mr. Hartley, or the superintendent of my office. Good-morning, sir, I get out here."

Frank pulled the strap, and got out. But he was not rid of his questioner. Haynes got out too, and walked beside our hero.

"I believe," he said, sternly, "that you were sent for to act as a spy on me."

"What makes you think so?" asked the telegraph boy, looking him in the eye.

"There was a difficulty between Mr. Hartley and myself, occasioned by a base and groundless charge, concocted by some enemy. I believe that you had something to do with this."

"I have brought no groundless charge against any one," said Frank.

"Did you make any report to Mr. Hartley in regard to me?"

"I must refer you to Mr. Hartley for information," said Frank. "I have an errand in here;" and he entered a store in the lower part of Broadway.

"There is no doubt about it," thought Haynes.

"That boy was a spy upon me. I have learned all I cared to. I owe you a debt of gratitude for this, Frank Kavanagh, and mean to pay the debt."

When Frank came out he thought it possible that Haynes might be waiting for him; but the disgraced clerk was gone.

"I suppose he would injure me if he had a chance," thought the telegraph boy. "I won't give him the chance if I can help it."

CHAPTER XXV. WHAT THE OLD TRUNK CONTAINED.

Mention has been made of an old trunk belonging to Frank's father, which, had been forwarded to him from the country by his Uncle Pelatiah. It may be mentioned here that our hero's father had been agent of a woollen mill in a large manufacturing town. For a considerable number of years he had been in receipt of a handsome salary, and had lived in good style, but still within his income. He was naturally supposed to possess a comfortable property.

His death was sudden. He was thrown from a carriage, and, striking his head upon the curbstone, was picked up senseless, and died unconscious. Upon examining into his affairs his administrator was unable to find any property beyond what was needed to pay the few debts he left behind him. So it came about that Frank was left a penniless orphan. His Uncle Pelatiah was his nearest relative, and to him he was sent. Pelatiah Kavanagh was not a bad man, nor was he intentionally unkind; but he was very close. All his life he had denied himself, to save money; and in this he had been ably assisted by his wife, who was even closer and meaner than her husband. It may readily be supposed that it was very disagreeable to both husband and wife to have a penniless nephew thrown upon their care and protection.

"How could your brother be so thoughtless and inconsiderate as to use up all his money, and leave his son destitute? Didn't he have a handsome income?"

"Yes," said Pelatiah. "He got two thousand dollars a year, and maybe more."

"You don't say so!" ejaculated his wife. "He'd ought to have saved two-thirds of it. I declare it's scandalous for a man to waste his substance in that way."

"My brother was allus free with his money. He wasn't so keerful as you and I be."

"I should think not, indeed. We don't begin to spend half as much as he did, and now he comes upon us to support his child."

"It don't seem right," said Pelatiah.

"Right? It's outrageous!" exclaimed Mrs. Kavanagh, energetically. "I declare I have no patience with such a man. It would only be right to send this boy Frank to the poor-house."

"The neighbors would talk," protested Pelatiah, who was half inclined to accept his wife's view, but was more sensitive to the criticism of the community in which he lived.

"Let 'em talk!" said his more independent helpmate. "It isn't right that this boy should use up the property that we have scraped together for his cousin Jonathan."

"We must keep him for a while, Hannah; but I'll get rid of him as soon I can consistently."

With this Mrs. Kavanagh had to be satisfied; but, during her nephew's stay of two months in the farm-house, she contrived to make him uncomfortable by harsh criticisms of his dead father, whom he had tenderly loved.

"You must have lived very extravagant," she said, "or your father would have left a handsome property."

"I don't think we did, Aunt Hannah."

"You father kept a carriage,—didn't he?"

"Yes; he had considerable riding to do."

"How much help did he keep?"

"Only one servant in the kitchen, and a stable-boy."

"There was no need of a boy. You could have done the work in the stable."

"I was kept at school."

"Oh, of course!" sneered his aunt. "You must be brought up as a young gentleman. Our Jonathan never had any such chances, and now you're livin' on him, or about the same. I suppose you kept an extravagant table too. What did you generally have for breakfast?"

So Aunt Hannah continued her catechising, much to Frank's discomfort. She commented severely upon the wastefulness of always having pastry for dinner.

"We can't afford it," she said, emphatically; "but then again we don't mean to have our Jonathan beholden to anybody in case your uncle and I are cast off sudden. What did you have for dinner on Sunday?"

"Meat and pudding and ice-cream,—that is, in warm weather."

"Ice-cream!" ejaculated Aunt Hannah, holding up both hands. "No wonder your father didn't leave nothin'. Why, we don't have ice-cream more'n once a year, and now we can't afford to have it at all, since we've got another mouth to feed."

"I am sorry that you have to stint yourself on my account," replied Frank, feeling rather uncomfortable.

"I suppose it's our cross," said Mrs. Kavanagh, gloomily; "but it does seem hard that we can't profit by our prudence because of your father's wasteful extravagance."

Such remarks were very disagreeable to our young hero, and it was hard for him to hear his father so criticised. He supposed they must have lived extravagantly, since it was so constantly charged by those about him, and he felt puzzled to account for his father's leaving nothing. When, after two months, his uncle and aunt, who had deliberated upon what was best to be done, proposed to him to go to New York and try to earn his own living, he caught at the idea. He knew that he might suffer hardships in the new life that awaited him, but if he could support himself in any way he would escape from the cruel taunts to which he was now forced to listen every day. How he reached the city, and how he succeeded, my readers