It was a surprise to every employee of Mr. Warmore. To Tom Gordon it wasalso a keen disappointment. He had never doubted that the plum would fallto him. He did not dream that the dudish young man would ever demeanhimself by manual labor; but Mr. Warmore departed from his usualreticence, to the extent of taking Tom aside and explaining matters.
"Mr. Catherwood is the son of an old college friend of mine. His fatherwas wealthy, and, at his death some years ago, left everything to him. Mr.Catherwood has traveled a good deal, but is disposed now to settle down inlife and become a business man. He has made an offer to put a large sum ofmoney in our business, and I have accepted it--that is, conditionally,"added the merchant with a slight hesitation.
Tom bowed.
"I presume he has some thought of marriage, and has awakened to the factthat the life of an idler is a worthless one. So he contemplates becominga merchant. With his help we shall be able to expand our business and thusbenefit both. I said I accepted his offer conditionally."
Noticing the hesitation of his employer, Tom interposed:--
"Mr. Warmore, there is no call for you to make this explanation. No mancould have been kinder to me than you have been. I will not deny that Iwas disappointed, when I found myself checked on the next to the highestround of the ladder, but not a word of complaint can ever be heard fromme. I should be an ingrate to utter it. I shall give you the best serviceof which I am capable, as I have done in the past. My gratitude you shallhave always."
"Those manly word have decided me to say two things: From the beginning ofthe year your salary shall be the same as that of Mr. Martin who has left.The condition upon which I have agreed to accept Mr. Catherwood as apartner is that he shall devote one year's hard work to the business. Hethinks he can acquire the necessary knowledge best by becoming abookkeeper, since he could hardly be expected to begin where you and therest did."
Repeating his thanks to his employer for the goodness he had always showntoward him, Tom Gordon bowed himself out.
Sure enough, the next day Mr. Catherwood took his place at thebookkeeper's desk. Mr. Martin agreed to stay a week in order to explaineverything necessary to him; and none could have applied himself moreassidiously than the young man, whose whole thoughts seemed to have beencentered on that of dress and the other sex.
Tom Gordon soon discovered the cause of Mr. Pitcairn's remark to theeffect that Catherwood was not such a bad fellow when you came to knowhim. He wrote an excellent hand, understood the theory of bookkeeping, andmastered that branch of the business so quickly that Mr. Martin wasdismissed with thanks at the end of three days.
True, he wore eyeglasses, parted his hair in the middle, and was anexquisite in his dress. When he chose he could be courteous to thosearound him. Most of the clerks were pleasantly disappointed by his manner.
Tom Gordon, as in duty bound, yielded full respect to the one who was notonly his superior in position, but who was likely, in the course of time,to become his sole employer. But the young man was sensitive, and soonbecame convinced that Mr. Catherwood did not feel especially friendlytoward him. It was not in anything he said or did, but rather in hismanner. It made Tom uncomfortable; but he resolved to make the best of it,and, if he could not force Mr. Catherwood to like him, he could at leastcompel his respect.
"He must have seen me laughing at him on the steamboat, when he missed hischair; possibly he suspects I had something to do with his mishap. It isnatural that he should feel resentful toward me, but I hope it will wearoff."
In the dusk of early evening, some months later, Tom was saunteringhomeward, musing over the past, with an uncomfortable feeling that despitethe long service he had given Mr. Warmore, and the many times he hadexpressed his satisfaction with him, the association was not likely tocontinue much longer.
There could be no mistaking the hearty dislike which Catherwood felt forthe young man. Tom would have cared little for that had not thediscouraging conviction forced itself upon him that Mr. Warmore wasbeginning to share his future partner's distrust. It seemed to be anunconscious absorption on his part of the views of another.
This was hard to bear; but it rasped the young man's sense of manhood, forit was an injustice which he did not expect.
"If Mr. Warmore is weak enough to let that fellow turn him against me, heis a different man from what I suspected. His store is not the only one inthe world, and at the first unfair act on his part, I shall leave--hello!"
Coming down the road, on a swift gallop, with the reins flying, was aspirited horse, dragging a fashionable dog-cart, which, as it swayed fromside to side, showed that it contained a single person,--a lady, who hadlost control of the animal.
"That looks bad," muttered Tom, his heart leaping with natural excitement."She is likely to be killed."
It looked as if the young man was to be given one of the stereotypedopportunities to prove his heroism,--that of rescuing a beautiful younglady whose horse was running away. He did not think of that, however, forit would have been the same had a bitter enemy been in peril.
The steed was coming like the whirlwind. The clamp of his hoofs, hissnorting nostrils, his flying mane, and dangling reins, the frail vehiclebounding from side to side and often on the point of overturning, theglimpses of the lady bravely holding on and uttering no scream,--all thesemade up the most startling picture on which Tom Gordon had looked for manya day.
Stationing himself in the middle of the road, he swung his hat and arms,and shouted to the mad animal in the hope of making him slacken his speedsufficiently to allow the occupant to leap out. The horse saw him, shied alittle, moderated his pace a trifle, and then plunged forward on a run.
Clearly he was not to be checked by that means. Tom Gordon braced himselffor the shock of the supreme effort he had formed.
In a twinkling his strong grip had closed about the strap of the bit, andhe threw his whole weight against the brute, who reared, plunged,struggled, struck with his fore feet, and strove to shake the incubusloose, but in vain. Tom held on like grim death, though in imminent dangerof being struck down and trampled upon. No animal is quicker to recognizethe hand of a master than a horse, and in less time than would be supposedpossible the mad runaway was under control.
Then a gentle patting, a few soothing words, and he became more quiet,though still trembling in every nerve.
"I hope, Miss Warmore, you have not been injured."
"Not in the least, thanks to your bravery," replied the young lady,displaying wonderful coolness. "I have had a pretty rapid ride and a badshock, but that is all."
Tom had caught up the reins and held them in hand, while he stood at theside of the vehicle near the daughter of his employer.
"Perhaps, Miss Warmore, it will be safer for me to drive home with you.The horse is nervous and liable to take fright again."
"I can never thank you sufficiently for what you have already done," shesaid with emotion, moving to one side to make room for him.
"It was not difficult," he remarked lightly, stepping in beside her, andspeaking gently to the animal, as he carefully turned him around to driveback. "I had time to prepare myself, and he was easily controlled. May Iask how it happened?"
He was sure he never saw one so beautiful as she. The excitement hadbrought a glow to her lustrous eyes, and there was deepening of the pinktinge on the cheeks which made her complexion perfection itself. She wasstill agitated, though striving hard to bring her feelings under control.
"We were driving at a brisk pace," she replied, "when a piece of paperblew across the road in front of Jack, and he was off like a shot."
Tom noticed her use of the word "we," and knew whom she meant.
"Could not Mr. Catherwood control him?"
He glanced sideways at her when he asked the question, and noticed thescornful expression that came upon her face.
"He might have done so had he a spark of _your_ courage; but the instantJack made his leap, Mr. Catherwood flung the lines over his back, and witha call to me to jump
, he sprang out of the cart and left me alone. If hehad given me the lines, I could have managed Jack myself; but he wouldn'tallow me even that poor privilege."
"He must have lost his head."
"Small loss to lose _such_ a head," exclaimed Miss Jennie, who evidentlyheld a small opinion of her escort; "it's the last time I shall ever goriding with _him_."
A queer thrill passed through Tom Gordon. He was a fervent admirer of theyoung lady at his side; but he had worshiped her, as may be said, as weworship a fair and brilliant star. It is something so far beyond our reachthat we keep our admiration to ourself, and strive to drive the foolishfeeling from our heart.
"I have no wish to injure Catherwood," was his thought; "but if he is sucha coward as to desert a lady in peril, it is well she should know itbefore it is too late."
When Mr. Warmore referred to the young man as not only contemplating apartnership in his business, but as intending marriage, Tom Gordon heldnot the slightest doubt of his full meaning. He was paying court to themerchant's only daughter; and, if they were not already engaged, theyexpected soon to become so.
The situation of our young friend, therefore, became a most peculiar one.He had been given an important preliminary advantage, if he chose toaspire to the love of the sweet one at his side; but he thought hard, anddid not lose his self-poise or sense of honor.
"It is natural that she should despise his poltroonery and feel gratefulto me," was his thought; "but, after all, it isn't likely she holds anyemotion other than simple gratitude. It would be base in me to presumeupon it. I will not do so."
The drive was comparatively a short one to the handsome residence of theWarmores. As Tom guided the mettlesome pony through the open gate and upthe winding roadway to the front of the porch, Mrs. Warmore came out palewith fright. She had just learned of the accident from G. FieldCatherwood, who had limped up the steps with a rambling tale of how he hadbeen flung headlong from the vehicle at the moment he was about to seizeJennie and lift her free.
"Thank Heaven!" exclaimed the mother, when she saw her daughter unharmed;"I was sure you were killed."
Catherwood hobbled forward from behind the lady, leaning on his cane.
"I say 'amen' to those sentiments," he added, too much flustered just thento use his affected style of speech. "O Jennie, my heart was broken when Iwas hurled out before I could save you. Allow me."
"You had better look after your own safety," she said, refusing his help,as she stepped lightly from the cart. "Jack might start again. Mother, Mr.Gordon here saved my life."
At this moment the groom appeared, and the blushing Tom turned the horseover to him, and, pretending he had not heard the words of Jennie, liftedhis hat.
"It has come out all right; I bid you good-evening."
Catherwood quickly rallied from the snub of the lady. He slipped hisfingers in his vest-pocket and drew out a bill, which he handed to Tom.
"What's that for?" asked the wondering youth, taking the crumpled paper.
"Aw--that's all right, my deah fellow--you earned it--dooced clevah inyou"--
Tom Gordon compressed the paper into a small wad, and placing it betweenhis thumb and forefinger, as though it were a marble, shot it against theeyeglasses of the amazed dude.
"That's my opinion of _you_," he said, turning about and walking off,before the agitated Mrs. Warmore could thank him.
"I suppose I've done it," he mused, when in the highway and walking towardFarmer Pitcairn's. "Catherwood never did like me and now he hates me. IfMiss Jennie keeps up her course toward him, he will hate me more thanever. He will not rest till he gets me out of the store. Well, let him goahead. I am not an old man yet, and the world is broad and big."
He was about to sit down to the evening meal, when a servant of Mr.Warmore arrived with a note, requesting the pleasure of Mr. Gordon'scompany to dinner that evening. It was not a simple formal invitation,but was so urgent that the young man could not refuse. He returned wordthrough the servant that he accepted with pleasure the invitation andwould be soon there.
Can the youth be censured, if, with a fluttering heart, he took extrapains with his personal appearance before leaving the good farmer's homethat evening? When at last he stepped forth, in full dress, swinging hislight cane, you would have had to hunt a long way to find a handsomerfellow than he.
And yet, with all his delightful anticipation, was mingled a feeling ofdread. He disliked meeting Catherwood, for between them a great gulfyawned and something unpleasant was certain to occur. Jennie had witnessedhis insulting offer of a reward to him for what he had done, and must haveappreciated the style in which it was repulsed. She would show herfeelings most decisively before the evening was over.
Besides that, he dreaded hearing the family renew their expressions ofthankfulness. Tom had unquestionably performed a brave act, but no more sothan hundreds of others that were continually being done every day--someof them entitled to far more credit than was his.
But the fact that he was about to spend an evening in the company of MissJennie herself, outweighed all these slight objections. Conscious, too,of her feeling toward him, he could not help viewing the hours just beforehim with a delightful flutter of anticipation.
The first pleasant disappointment which came to Tom, after reaching thefine residence and receiving the cordial welcome of the family, was thediscovery that G. Field Catherwood was not present, and would not form oneof the little party. That lifted a load of apprehension from hisshoulders.
Inasmuch as it had to come, Tom took the thanks of the parents like ahero. He listened with a respectful smile, blushed under the compliments,and blushed still more when Jennie with a straightforward, earnest looksaid,--
"Mr. Gordon may say it was not much, but it saved my life, and I shall_never_, NEVER forget it. If Mr. Catherwood had shown a hundredth part ofhis courage"--
"There, there, daughter," protested her father, as they seated themselvesat the table, "a truce to all that; let us leave him out of theconversation."
"And, if you please, drop the whole thing," added Tom, who began to feeluncomfortable under it all.
"Since it will be more agreeable to you, we will do so," was the heartyremark of the head of the family, as all began "discussing," as theexpression goes, the feast before them. "I will say, however, that Jenniedid meet with one experience, in which her rescuer showed possibly morepluck than Mr. Gordon to-day."
The guest looked inquiringly at his host.
"She seems to be destined to be concerned in unpleasant adventures."
"Yes; I hope this is the last of them. What I refer to happened some fiveor six years ago,--possibly more than that. At any rate, she was a smallgirl, crossing the ferry at New York with her mother, when in the crowdand crush, by some means which I never could understand, she felloverboard. The river was full of floating ice, and she would have beendrowned but for the heroism of a boy, who sprang in after her, and, at therisk of his own life, kept her afloat until both could be drawn on board."
Tom Gordon felt his face turning scarlet. He was so disturbed for themoment that he could not frame any words. He could only look at hisemployer and listen. In that moment there flashed upon him the explanationof a little mystery which had troubled him for months.
The first time he looked into the face of Jennie Warmore, the suspicioncame to him that somewhere and at some time, under far differentcircumstances, he had met her. When sitting at her side in the dog-cartthat afternoon, this suspicion became a certainty. He strove to accountfor it on the theory that it was one of those accidental resemblanceswhich all of us have met in our experience; but he could not make himselfbelieve it to be the fact.
Strange that he never thought of associating her with that memorableincident in his own life! He had sacredly preserved the chain andlikeness; and it was the similarity between the latter and the buddingyoung lady that caused the perplexity in his mind. He wondered that he hadnot hit upon the explanation before it was flung in his face, as may besai
d.
By the time Mrs. Warmore had added her account to that of her husband, Tomhad regained mastery of himself.
"And who was the lad that did all this?" he asked in the most innocentmanner conceivable.
"That is the one feature about the affair that has always troubled me,"said the merchant. "I have tried to find out, but have never been able togain the first clew to his identity. Mrs. Warmore was so frantic in mindthat she did not think of the noble rescuer until he was gone. Then shemade inquiries, but no one seemed to know anything about him."
"It distressed me," added the lady; "for I felt he must think we wereungrateful. We advertised in the papers, but it was useless. I do notsuppose we shall ever know who he was."
"He may have been some poor boy in need of help," added Mr. Warmore; "butso brave a lad as that is sure to get along."
"I presume _you_ remember the incident?" remarked Tom, turning toward thedaughter.
"How can I ever forget it?" she asked in reply, with a shiver. "I can feelthat icy water even now, as it closed round me that wintry night. It wastoo dark to see my rescuer's face plainly, but I would know him if I methim fifty years from now. He was remarkably handsome."
"A boy of that age changes very much in a few years."
"He could never change so as to grow out of my recollection," said Jenniewith a positiveness that made Tom Gordon smile.
"And of all the strange things that were ever done by a child," said Mrs.Warmore, "none ever equalled what Jennie did while floating in the water."
"Indeed, what could that be?"
"Tell him yourself, daughter."
The young lady blushed and laughed.
"I don't know what possessed me to do it. I hardly think I was consciousof matters or responsible for all I did. When the lad was fighting his waythrough the icy waters, I remember snatching a chain and locket containingmy likeness from my neck, and twisting the chain about a button on hiscoat. I had a feeling of wishing to do something that should help him toremember me. After that I became wholly unconscious."
"It seems to me the little fellow was rewarded by securing the chain andlocket," remarked Tom with a significant smile.
"That was but a trifle compared to what he ought to have received,"replied Jennie.
"You forget that it contained _your_ picture."
The compliment was so neatly put that all laughed, and the face of theyoung lady became rosier than ever.
"Pardon me," Tom hastened to say; "of course the little fellow haspreserved those mementoes, and I should not he surprised if he turns upsome day when least expected."
"I hope so," was the fervent response of Jennie, in which sentiment herparents joined.
It is not necessary to dwell upon the evening, which was a red letter onein Tom Gordon's life. No more delightful hours were ever spent by him; andwhen, without tarrying too late, he left, he could make no mistake as tothe sentiments of the three, and especially the youngest, toward him. Hehad made an impression there, and it would be his own fault if it failedto ripen into something serious.
But, as he walked homeward in the silvery moonlight, he felt a respect forhimself which, it is safe to say, would have come to few placed as he was.He had not given the first hint that he was the boy who, at the risk ofhis own life, had leaped into the wintry waters and rescued little JennieWarmore from death.
Who would have held back the secret in his situation? Would you or I?Doubtful, if when smitten with love for a fair, sweet girl, we had feltthat its telling would have riveted the bonds which, at the most, wereonly partly formed, and might dissolve into nothingness if not thusstrengthened.
It was the youth's fine-grained sense of honor that restrained him.
"She holds a good opinion of me now. If it should ever happen that thatfeeling grows into love (and Heaven grant it may!), it must be for mealone, and not for any accident in the past. Suppose I had not done her agood turn to-day,--she might have discarded Catherwood for his baseness,but what would have caused her to transfer her regard to me? No, she shallnever know the whole truth until--until"--
He dared not finish the thrilling sentence, the blissful hope, the wilddream, that set his nerves dancing. Unto us all can come that radiant,soulful, all-absorbing emotion but once in our life, and it is too sacredto be trifled with; for once destroyed, once crushed, once dead, and theholy thing vanishes forever.
Two noticeable truths became manifest to Tom Gordon on the morrow. G.Field Catherwood's dislike of him was intensified. The young man had feltfrom the first that the head clerk was not only more attractive than he inlooks, but was far brighter intellectually. Added now to this was thefeeling of jealousy. He had received from Jennie Warmore a too pointedexpression of her contempt for him to have any possible room formisunderstanding it. When he ventured to hint at their engagement, whichhad been discussed, but never formally made, she shook her headdecisively, and his heart collapsed.
He had strolled by the house early in the evening, having fully recoveredfrom the injuries resulting from the runaway, and was on the point ofpassing through the gate, when he observed a figure ahead of him. Onequick glance disclosed that it was young Gordon, on his way to pass theevening there. That knowledge caused the dude to wheel about and go to thehotel, where he made his home. And as he strode along the highway, hisheart overflowed with the bitterness of gall and wormwood.
He made no attempt to conceal his feelings on the following day, when heand Gordon came in contact at the store. Tom avoided him as much aspossible; but, of necessity, they occasionally came together, and therepulsion was mutual. This unpleasantness was fully offset not only by theconsciousness of the regard of Miss Warmore, but by the cordial manner ofher father. Those signs of distrust which he had shown during the pastweek were gone, and his kindness and consideration for the young man wereso marked as to attract the attention of all. It was clear that the mistsbetween them had vanished.
Chapter XXIII.