CHAPTER XVII.
ANDY'S FELLOW BOARDERS.
As time went on, Andy became sensible that Simon Rich was indeed nofriend of his. He was watched with a cold vigilance that was nothingless than a lookout for imperfections. Andy saw that it would benecessary for him to be unusually careful and attentive to his duties.
Mr. Flint, on the other hand, was always kind and cordial,notwithstanding the slighting words from Mr. Rich.
One day when Andy returned from lunch he found a boy talking with SimonRich. He recognized him as his predecessor.
The boy, John Crandall, looked at him with an ill-natured glance. AsSimon Rich did not see fit to introduce him he did not speak. When Richwent out to lunch John Crandall accompanied him.
"Don't you think there is any chance of my getting back, Uncle Simon?"asked John.
"Not at present. That boy you saw seems to have the inside track withMr. Flint."
"What sort of a boy is he?"
"He's too fresh. I don't like him."
"What made Mr. Flint take him on?"
"Heaven knows; I don't."
"Do you think he is likely to stay?"
"Not if I can help it."
"Can't you prejudice Mr. Flint against him?"
"I will if I can. I am looking for a chance to get him into trouble, butit isn't easy, as he is a goody-goody sort of a boy. He tries to get inwith people. You know Mrs. Mason, of Fifty-sixth Street?"
"Yes; I have carried purchases there."
"The very first day he was here he went there with a chain, and sheinvited him to lunch."
"You don't mean it?" exclaimed John, in surprise. "She never took anynotice of me."
They went to the Dairy Restaurant, on Union Square, for lunch.
"Uncle Simon," said John, when they were going out, "can't you give mefifty cents? You know I haven't a cent of money, now that my salary isstopped."
"What do you want fifty cents for?" demanded his uncle, frowning.
"I want to go to the Grand Opera House to-night. I haven't been to thetheater for two weeks."
"And you can't expect to while you are not earning anything."
"But that isn't my fault," pleaded John.
"Yes, it is. You neglected your duties at Flint's, and he saw it. Thatis why you lost your place."
"It is pretty hard going about without a cent of money in your pocket."
"Then you should have kept your place. Have you been around to look foranother position?"
"No; I thought you would get me back into Flint's."
"I don't think there is much chance, but I will try to get the other boyout."
"I hope you'll do that; I hate the sight of him. I feel as if he hadturned me out of my place."
"How do you like the new boy, Mr. Rich?" asked the jeweler at the end ofthe first week.
"I don't care much for him," said Simon Rich, coldly.
"What is the matter with him? Does he neglect his work?"
"No," Rich admitted, unwillingly.
"What have you against him, then?"
"He has a sneaking way about him."
"On the contrary, he seems to me to be unusually frank and open."
"He is trying to get into your good graces."
"Well, that is proper, isn't it?
"Yes, but--"
"Well?"
"I think he will bear watching."
"Surely you don't suspect him of dishonesty."
"Still waters run deep," said the clerk, sententiously.
Mr. Flint smiled to himself as he turned away. He understood that thesecret of his head clerk's prejudice was the fact that Andy had takenthe place of his nephew.
Meanwhile Andy had got well acquainted at his boarding house. BesidesMr. Warren he found his next neighbor, Sam Perkins, quite sociable.
Sam was a youth of eighteen, and was employed in a furnishing-goodsstore on lower Broadway. He was fortunate in the location of his store,as he finished work at half-past five, and was able to be at supper atthe regular hour. He seemed rather fond of dress and indulged in avariety of showy neckties, being able to get them at wholesale rates.
He introduced himself to Andy the first evening.
"What pay do you get?" he asked.
"Five dollars a week."
"I get seven, but it's too small. A man can't live on it. Why, my carfare costs me sixty cents a week."
"It must be rather a tight squeeze."
"The folks at home allow me two dollars a week besides. You see, thegovernor's got money. But I tell you money melts away in New York."
"No doubt. There are a good many ways of spending money here."
"Suppose we go to the theater to-night."
"I would rather wait a while. This is my first night in the city."
"Have you got acquainted with old Warren?"
"You mean the occupant of the large room opposite?"
"Yes."
"I have talked with him a little."
"How do you like him?"
"I don't know him well enough to judge," said Andy, cautiously.
"He's a crank--and soft at that. Pretends that he is literary and writesfor the magazines."
"He does, doesn't he?"
"Yes, he writes for them, but I don't think his articles get printed. Hejust sits round and writes, and isn't any company at all. I have triedto get him to go to the theater, but he won't. Once I was hardup--hadn't but a nickel--and asked him to lend me a quarter. Hewouldn't."
"Very likely he hasn't got much money."
"That's right. Did you ever see such shabby neckties as he wears?"
"He hasn't your advantages about getting new neckties," said Andy, witha smile, for he had already learned where Sam was at work.
"How do you like the tie I have on? It's a stunner, isn't it?" askedSam, complacently.
"It's very showy."
"I get a new necktie every week. You see, I get them at half price.Girls always notice your necktie."
"Then I don't think they'll pay me much attention."
"Your tie is too sober, that's a fact. Better let me bring you one. Ican get it half off. They won't know but it's for me."
"Thank you. I may by and by accept your offer. Now, I don't want tospend any extra money."
At the table Andy was introduced to a Mr. and Mrs. Osborn, who did notappear to be long married. She was tall, angular and thirty-five. He wasat least five years younger. He had married her for her money, but shelet him have little advantage of it, dealing it out in small sums.
He occupied a small clerkship at eight dollars a week, out of which hehad to pay his own board, while his wife, who had an income fromproperty of a thousand dollars a year, defrayed her own expenses, andoccasionally allowed him a dollar or two.
He was much better looking than his wife, and it was this, perhaps, thatmade her jealous if he looked at another woman. The particular objectof her jealousy was a Miss Manson, who held a business position at anuptown milliner's. She was pleasant and piquant.
There was also a Mr. Kimball, who was a salesman at Hearn's. He liked todiscuss financial problems, and felt that he should have been a banker,but found no one to talk with, as Mr. Osborn's ideas on finance wereelementary.
Indeed, Mrs. Osborn was the only one at the table who was competent toconverse with him on his favorite subject.
"Miss Manson, may I pass you the sugar?" asked Mr. Osborn on the firstoccasion of Andy's appearing at dinner.
"Miss Manson can reach the sugar bowl herself," interposed Mrs. Osborn,with a reproving frown.
"I like to be neighborly, my dear," said her husband, deprecatingly.
"I see you do."
Miss Manson smiled, and so did others at the table, who detected Mrs.Osborn's jealousy.
"Have you read the President's financial message, Mr. Osborn?" asked Mr.Kimball.
"No; I don't take any interest in such things."
"I have read it, Mr. Kimball," said Mrs. Osborn, "and I approve hisrecommendations
."
"So do I, with one exception," returned Mr. Kimball; and they began aconversation in which none of the other boarders took an interest.
When supper was over, Andy and Sam went for a walk. Mr. Warren excusedhimself on the ground that he was writing a poem for one of themagazines.
"So you are with a jeweler," said Sam. "I may come up and buy a ringsome day. Do you allow a discount to friends?"
"I don't know yet. I will favor you if I can."