Chester Rand; or, The New Path to Fortune by Jr. Horatio Alger (best pdf reader for ebooks TXT) 📕
Read free book «Chester Rand; or, The New Path to Fortune by Jr. Horatio Alger (best pdf reader for ebooks TXT) 📕» - read online or download for free at americanlibrarybooks.com
- Author: Jr. Horatio Alger
Read book online «Chester Rand; or, The New Path to Fortune by Jr. Horatio Alger (best pdf reader for ebooks TXT) 📕». Author - Jr. Horatio Alger
“Considerably more,” Mrs. Rand answered, with satisfaction.
“More’n five dollars a week?”
“Yes; he offers to send me five dollars a week, but I can get along without assistance, since Miss Dolby pays me so liberally.”
“Well, I am surprised. Chester is very lucky. Mebbe it won’t last,” he continued, hopefully.
“It seems likely to be permanent.”
“Well, I guess I must be goin’. If he should lose his place, tell him I will take him back any time.”
“I don’t think he would be satisfied to come back to Wyncombe after working in New York.”
Silas Tripp returned to his house rather disappointed. He had felt so sure of securing Chester’s services, and now his old boy seemed to be quite out of his reach.
“Offered to send his mother five dollars a week!” he soliloquized. “Then he must be makin’ as much as ten in his new place. Mr. Mullins didn’t seem to know about it. I wonder what he can be doin’ to get such a high salary.”
CHAPTER XXVIII.
PROF. NUGENT.
Chester still went three times a week to the house of Prof. Hazlitt. He was getting on fast with the professor’s work.
“I think I shall go to press with my book before the end of the year,” said the professor, one evening, as Chester was taking his leave. “In my preface I shall mention your name, Chester, as my artistic collaborator.”
“Couldn’t you mention my name, too, Uncle Edgar?” asked Arthur Burks.
“In what way?” inquired the professor smiling.
“You can say that I supervised the illustrations,” answered Arthur, demurely.
“I am afraid you will have to wait till you are better entitled to credit.”
“Now, that’s mean, Uncle Edgar. I know how I’ll get even with you.”
“How?”
“I will write a rival book, and get Chester to illustrate it better than yours.”
“It would need better illustrations, since there would be nothing else in the work worthy of attention.”
“Your uncle has got you there,” said Chester.
“You’ll illustrate my book, won’t you?”
“Certainly; that is, if I can depend on prompt payment.”
Chester and Arthur Burks were fast friends. Arthur did not shine in scholarship, but he was fond of fun, and was a warm-hearted and pleasant companion, and a true friend.
One afternoon he called on Chester at his room.
“I bring you an invitation to dinner,” he said. “Uncle has a friend from Oregon visiting him, and as he is an interesting talker, you will enjoy meeting him. I believe he is a professor in Williamette University.”
“Thank you, Arthur; I shall be very glad to come.”
“Come with me now, if you have got through your day’s work. You can have a little scientific conversation before dinner.”
“It will be the science of baseball and tennis, I suspect, Arthur.”
“No doubt you will find me very instructive.”
“You always are, Arthur.”
“Thank you. I like to be appreciated by somebody.”
At the dinner table Chester was introduced to Prof. Nugent.
“This is Chester Rand, the young artist who is illustrating my ethnological work, brother Nugent,” said Prof. Hazlitt.
“What—this boy?” Prof. Nugent exclaimed, in a tone of surprise.
“Yes. Boy as he is, he is a salaried contributor to The Phœnix.”
“You surprise me. How old are you, Mr. Rand?”
“Sixteen.”
“I suppose you began your art education early?”
Chester smiled.
“No, sir,” he answered. “Four months ago I was the boy in a country grocery store.”
“This is wonderful. I shall subscribe to The Phœnix before I go back to my Western home.”
“I am afraid, sir, it will be too light to suit your taste.”
“My dear young friend, don’t suppose I am always grave. What says the Latin poet:
“‘Dulce est desipere in loco.’
“If you don’t understand it, probably Arthur can enlighten you.”
“What does it mean, Arthur?”
“It means, ‘When all your serious work is done, ’tis best to have a little fun,’” answered Arthur, promptly.
“Bravo, Arthur,” said Prof. Nugent, clapping his hands. “So we have a young poet as well as a young artist here.”
“Oh, yes,” answered Arthur. “I’m pretty smart, but few people find it out.”
“You’d better ask the professor about Tacoma,” suggested Arthur, during a pause in the conversation.
CHAPTER XXIX.
MR. FAIRCHILD’S TELEGRAM.
“Tacoma!” repeated the professor. “Who is interested in Tacoma?”
“I own five lots of land there,” answered Chester.
“Then I congratulate you. Lots are rising there, and are destined to go to a still higher point.”
“How do you account for that?” asked Prof. Hazlitt.
“In three months the Northern Pacific Railroad will be completed, and that will give a great impetus to the growth of the town. I expect to live to see fifty thousand people there. Let me ask how you became possessed of these lots?”
“They were given to me by a friend now dead.”
“What was his name?”
“Walter Bruce.”
“Indeed! Why, I own three lots adjoining the Bruce lots. They are among the best located in the town.”
“Would you advise me to keep them or sell if I have the chance?”
“To keep them, by all means. I shall keep mine. If, however, you wish to sell, I will myself pay you five hundred dollars each.”
“Then I may consider myself worth twenty-five hundred dollars,” said Chester, in a tone of satisfaction.
“Yes, and more if you are willing to wait.”
“I think Mr. Bruce only gave twenty-five dollars apiece for them.”
“Very likely. Mine only cost thirty dollars each.”
“I shall begin to look upon you as a rich man, Chester,” said Arthur Burks.
“Only a rich boy,” corrected Chester, laughing. “I haven’t begun to shave yet.”
“I think I shall commence next week,” remarked Arthur, rubbing his cheek vigorously.
“Since you own property in our neighborhood, Mr. Rand,” said Prof. Nugent, “why don’t you make us a visit?”
“I hope to some day when I can afford it,” replied Chester, “but I didn’t know till you told me just now that my lots were worth more than a trifle.”
“If ever you do come, don’t forget to call on me at the university. It is located in Salem, Oregon. I may be able to take a trip to Tacoma with you.”
“Thank you, sir. I should like nothing better.”
The next afternoon Chester chanced to enter the Fifth Avenue Hotel. He went through the corridor and into the reading room to buy a paper. What was his surprise to see his recent acquaintance, Paul Perkins, sitting in an armchair, reading a Minneapolis journal.
“Why, Chester!” exclaimed Mr. Perkins, cordially, as he rose and shook Chester’s hand vigorously. “It does my heart good to see you. I was intending to call at your office to-morrow.”
“You wouldn’t have found me, Mr. Perkins.”
“How is that?”
“I have been discharged.”
“By that rascal, Mullins? It’s a shame. I must see if I can’t find you another position.”
“Thank you, but it is not necessary. I have a place already.”
“Good! Is it in the real estate business?”
“No, I am engaged on The Phœnix, a new weekly humorous paper, as one of the regular staff of artists.”
“Whew! That is good. Do you get fair pay?”
“Twenty-five dollars a week.”
“You don’t say so. That is surprising. How much did you get at the other place?”
“Five.”
“Then this is five times as good. You ought to give Mr. Mullins a vote of thanks for bouncing you.”
“I don’t think he meant to benefit me,” said Chester, smiling.
“Do you have to work hard? What are your hours?”
“I have none. I work at home and select my own hours.”
“Are you through work for the day?”
“Yes.”
“Then you must stay and dine with me. It is four o’clock. We can chat for an hour, and then go to dinner.”
“Thank you. I will accept with pleasure. Did you have a pleasant journey?”
“Yes; but I should have enjoyed it better if you had been with me. I called at the White House and shook hands with the President.”
“Did you tell him you wanted an office?”
“No office for me. I would rather have my own business and be my own master. Washington’s a fine city, but give me Minneapolis.”
“I may call on you in Minneapolis sometime, Mr. Perkins.”
“I hope you will. You’ll find it worth visiting. It’s a right smart place, if I do say it.”
“I have seen a professor from a university in Oregon, and he has given me good news of my lots in Tacoma. I have five, as I think I told you. He offered me five hundred dollars apiece cash down.”
“Don’t you take it! They’re going a good deal higher, now that the railroad is nearly completed.”
“So he told me.”
“I congratulate you on your good luck, Chester. I am sure you deserve it. But you haven’t told me why you were ‘bounced.’”
“Mr. Mullins said I wasted time in going his errands. It wasn’t true, but it was only an excuse to get rid of me. He took his cousin Felix in my place.”
The two friends went to dinner about six o’clock. At seven they came downstairs and sat in the lobby on a sofa near the door.
Through the portal there was a constant ingress and egress of men—a motley crowd—business men, politicians, professionals and men perhaps of shady character, for a great hotel cannot discriminate, and hundreds pass in and out who are not guests and have no connection with the house.
“It is a wonderful place, Chester,” said Mr. Perkins. “Everybody seems at home here. I suppose everybody—everybody, at least, who is presentable—in New York comes here sometime during the year.”
Just then Chester uttered a little exclamation of surprise. As if to emphasize Mr. Perkins’ remark, two persons came in who were very well known to the young artist. They were David Mullins and Dick Ralston.
Mullins heard the slight exclamation and turned his head in the direction of the sofa on which Chester and his friend were sitting. So did Ralston.
“Why, it’s your old boy!” he said.
Mullins smiled a little maliciously. He had not heard that Chester had a place.
“I suppose you are boarding here,” he said, with a little sarcasm.
“No, Mr. Mullins, but I have just dined here—with my friend, Mr. Perkins.”
Mullins inclined his head slightly.
“Has he adopted you?” he asked, in a tone bordering on impertinence.
“No, sir,” answered Mr. Perkins; “but if Chester ever wants me to, I will. At present he is prosperous, and requires no help or adoption.”
“Oh! Have you got a place?” asked Mullins, turning to Chester.
“Yes.”
“In the same business?”
“No; I am in the office of a weekly paper.”
“Oh!” said the bookkeeper, disdainfully. “They pay beggarly salaries at such places.”
“Then I am favored. I receive more than twice as much as I did in your office.”
Chester did not care to just state how much he received.
“That can’t be possible!”
“It is a fact, however. Has Mr. Fairchild returned?”
“No. Why do you want to know?”
“I have no wish to go back, Mr. Mullins. Don’t be apprehensive of that. I don’t wish to disturb Felix.”
Dick Ralston listened with some interest to the conversation.
“It strikes me the kid has come to no harm from being discharged,” he said.
“I believe this is Mr. Perkins, of Minneapolis?”
“Yes, sir,” answered the Westerner, eying the gambler with a penetrating glance.
“I shall be glad to be your guide if you wish to see something of New York. Will you join us this evening?”
“You are very polite, but I have an engagement with Chester.”
“A mere boy! He knows nothing about the city.”
“Still I am satisfied with him.”
The two passed on and went into the bar-room, where they sat down at a table and ordered some liquid refreshment.
“Well, Mullins,” said the gambler, “I am getting impatient. The days are slipping by, and you have done nothing.”
“You know what I am waiting for. Yesterday a check for a thousand dollars was paid in at the office, and deposited in the bank to-day.”
“Good! And then?”
“I will send Felix to the bank and draw out sixteen hundred. Will that satisfy you?”
“I see, and, according to our arrangement, Felix will hand it to me on his way back to the office, and then swear that it was taken from him by some unknown party. You have coached him, have you?”
“Yes. Of course, I had to let him into the secret partially, promising him twenty-five dollars for himself.”
“Ten would have been sufficient.”
“He would not have been satisfied.
Comments (0)