Try and Trust; Or, Abner Holden's Bound Boy by Jr. Horatio Alger (best e books to read .TXT) 📕

“Better have a cigar.”

“No; I guess not.”

“You'll come to it in time. I'll smoke it for you, then.”

After smoking, Greenleaf expressed his intention of going to the theater. Herbert preferred to go to bed early, feeling rather tired. He was kept awake at first by the noise of the horse-cars and the bustle of the street outside, as well as by the exciting thoughts that crowded upon him, suggested by his actual arrival in the city, where he hoped to make a place for himself by energy and industry. But at last he fell asleep.

He slept soundly through the night. But towards morning he had a dream in which Abner Holden figured. His old employer seemed to be approaching him with a smile of exultation, and was about to lay violent hands upon him, when he awoke. It was broad daylight, being already seven o'clock in the morning. Herbert remembered where he was, and looked across the room for Greenleaf. But he was not visible. The bed was disarranged, and evidently had been slept in, but the occupant had risen.

“I didn't think he was a fellow to rise early,” thought Herbert. “I suppose he is downstairs. I might as well get up, too.”

Herbert jumped out of bed, and, going to the wash-stand, washed his face and hands. He then proceeded to dress.

“I wonder Greenleaf didn't wake me up,” he thought.

But the reason was too soon made evident. Happening to put his hand in the pocket where he usually kept his pocketbook, he was startled at finding it empty. Somewhat alarmed, he began to hunt round upon the floor, thinking it possible that it might have dropped out. But his search was vain. It was not to be found. He then examined carefully the remaining pockets, still without success.

It was not until this moment that a suspicion entered his mind concerning his companion.

“Is it possible,” he thought, “that Greenleaf has been mean enough to strip me of my money?”

Herbert did not want to believe this. He disliked to think badly of anyone, and he still hoped it would prove otherwise. It was barely possible that Greenleaf had taken his money by way of playing a practical joke upon him, and he might now be downstairs, waiting to be amused at Herbert's look of dismay when he discovered that he was penniless. Drowning men will catch at straws, and Herbert, in his trouble, tried to think this was probably the way it had happened.

“Greenleaf is rather a hard case, according to his own account,” he said to himself, “but I can't believe he would be mean enough to rob me. I will go downstairs and see if I can find him.”

Accordingly, leaving his chamber, he descended the staircase, and made his way to the office.

Herbert went up and spoke to the clerk who chanced to be inside.

“Have you seen my roommate?” he asked.

“What is the number of your room?”

“No. ——.”

“I remember now. He has gone.”

“Gone!” echoed Herbert, in dismay.

“Yes; didn't you know of it?”

“He went away while I was asleep. How long since did he go?”

“He came to the office two hours since, and said he should not require the room any longer.”

“Did he leave any message for me?”

“No.”

“Did he say where he was going?”

“No.”

Such an expression of dismay and perplexity overspread Herbert's face that the clerk could not help observing it.

“Is anything wrong?” he asked.

“Yes,” said Herbert. “He has robbed me of my pocketbook, containing all my money.”

“Whew!” whistled the clerk. “How much had you?”

“About sixty dollars.”

“You're unlucky, that's a fact. Have you nothing left?”

Just then it flashed across Herbert's mind that when he had paid for his supper he had changed a five-dollar bill, and placed the balance, about four dollars and a half in his vest pocket. He at once felt in that pocket, and found it still there. Greenleaf had contented himself with the pocketbook.

“I have a little left,” he said.

He paid for his room in advance for another day, and went down to breakfast.