CHAPTER XX.
PAUL PERKINS, OF MINNEAPOLIS.
If a bomb had exploded in the office David Mullins and his friendRalston could not have been more astonished than by the appearance ofPaul Perkins, whose name was invented without the slightest idea thatany such person existed.
Before relating what followed, a word of explanation is necessary.
Chester went to the Fifth Avenue Hotel without the slightest suspicionthat he had been sent on a fool's errand. He imagined, indeed, that Mr.Mullins wanted to get rid of him, but did not doubt that there was sucha man as Paul Perkins, and that he was expected to arrive at the FifthAvenue Hotel.
He walked up Broadway in a leisurely manner, feeling that his hastyreturn was not desired. He reached the Fifth Avenue, and entering--itwas the first time he had ever visited the hotel--went up to the desk.
The clerk was giving instructions to a bell boy, who was directed tocarry a visitor's card to No. 221. When at leisure, Chester asked:
"Has Mr. Paul Perkins, of Minneapolis, arrived at the hotel?"
The clerk looked over the list of arrivals. Finally his forefingerstopped at an entry on the book.
"Yes," he answered, "he arrived last evening. Did you wish to see him?"
About this Chester was in doubt. He had only been asked to inquire ifMr. Perkins had arrived. He assumed, however, that the bookkeeperwished to see Mr. Perkins at the office. Accordingly he answered, "Yes,sir. I should like to see him."
The clerk rang a bell and another bell boy made his appearance.
"Write your name on a card," said the clerk, "and I will send it up."
"The gentleman won't know my name," said Chester.
"Then give the name of your firm."
So Chester, after slight hesitation, wrote:
"Chester Rand. From Clement Fairchild, Real Estate Broker."
"Take that up to 169," said the clerk to the bell boy.
In five minutes the boy returned.
"Mr. Perkins says you are to come upstairs to his room," he reported.
Chester followed the bell boy to the elevator.
He had never before ridden in such a conveyance and the sensation was anovel one. They got off at one of the upper floors, and Chesterfollowed his guide to the door of a room near by.
The bell boy knocked.
"Come in," was heard from the inside.
Chester entered and found himself in the presence of a man of fifty,with a sandy complexion and thick, brown beard. He held the card in hishand, and was looking at it.
"Are you Chester Rand?" he asked, in a high-pitched voice.
"Yes, sir."
"And you come from Clement Fairchild?"
"Yes, sir."
"This is very curious. I never heard the name before."
Chester looked surprised.
"I can't explain it, sir," he said. "I was asked to come to the hoteland ask if you had arrived."
"Where is Mr. Fairchild's office?"
"On West Fourteenth Street."
"And he is a real estate broker?"
"Yes, sir."
"I don't understand what he wants of me, or how in the name of all thatis curious he ever heard of me. I don't own any real estate, except athree-story house in which I live."
"Perhaps, sir, if you will go to the office with me you will get anexplanation."
"Precisely. That is a very practical and sensible suggestion. Is it faroff? I ask because I have never been in New York before."
"It is only about ten minutes' walk."
"Then I'll go with you, that is, if you can wait fifteen minutes whileI finish writing a letter to my wife, apprising her of my safearrival."
"Yes, sir, I am in no especial hurry."
"Then sit down, and--you may look at this," handing him the last copyof _Puck_.
Chester opened the paper eagerly, for _Puck_ had accepted two of hissketches. He opened it at random, and his eye lighted up, for there wasone of the two sketches handsomely reproduced. He uttered a littleexclamation.
"What have you found?" asked Paul Perkins, looking up from his letter.
"This picture--is one of mine."
"You don't mean it!" exclaimed the man from Minneapolis, dropping hispen in surprise. "I thought you were an office boy."
"So I am, sir, but--sometimes I sell sketches to the illustratedpapers."
"What did you get for this?"
"Seven dollars and a half. That is, I sold this and another for fifteendollars."
"By the great horn spoon! but this is wonderful."
Chester did not feel called upon to say anything.
"How long did it take you to draw this picture?"
"A little over half an hour."
"Jerusalem! that is at the rate of ten dollars an hour. I am contentedto make ten dollars a day."
"So should I be, sir. I don't draw all the time," said Chester, with asmile.
"I was going to ask if you wouldn't give me lessons in drawing andsketching."
"I should be afraid to, sir," laughed Chester. "You might prove adangerous rival."
"You needn't be afraid. I can play as well as I can sing."
"I suppose you sing well, sir," said Chester, roguishly.
"You can judge. When I was a young man I thought I would practicesinging a little in my room one night. The next morning my landladysaid, in a tone of sympathy, 'I heard you groaning last night, Mr.Perkins. Did you have the toothache?'"
Chester burst into a hearty laugh.
"If that is the case," he said, "I won't be afraid of you as a rival indrawing."
Mr. Perkins set himself to finishing his letter, and in twenty minutesit was done.
"Now, I am ready," he said.
As they went downstairs, Chester observed, "I will ask you as a favor,Mr. Perkins, not to refer to my work in _Puck_, as it is not known atthe office that I do any work outside."
"All right, my boy. By the way, how much do they pay you at theoffice?"
"Five dollars a week."
"Evidently it isn't as good a business as drawing."
"No, sir; but it is more reliable. I can't always satisfy the comicpapers, and I am likely to have sketches left on my hands."
"Yes; that is a practical way of looking at it, and shows that you area boy of sense. What sort of a man is Mr. Fairchild?"
"A very kind, considerate man, but I forgot to say that you won't seehim."
"But I thought he sent you to call on me?"
"No, sir; Mr. Fairchild started for the West this morning. It was Mr.Mullins, the bookkeeper, who sent me."
"That complicates the mystery. Is he a good friend of yours?"
"No, sir; he dislikes me."
Mr. Perkins looked curious, and Chester, considerably to his ownsurprise, confided to him the story of his relations with thebookkeeper.
"He's a scamp!" commented the man from Minneapolis. "Why does Mr.Fairchild keep him. I wouldn't! I'd bounce him very quick."
"He has been with Mr. Fairchild five years and understands his businessthoroughly."
"Well, there is something in that; but I wouldn't like to have in myemploy a man whom I couldn't trust. Have you ever been out West?"
"No, sir."
"You ought to come out there. The city I represent is a smart one andno mistake. Of course you've heard of the rivalry between Minneapolisand St. Paul."
"Yes, sir."
"I don't take sides, for I live in both, but I think businessfacilities in Minneapolis are greater. I think you are a boy who wouldsucceed at the West."
"I should like to go there some day. I own some property in WashingtonTerritory."
"You do?" exclaimed Paul Perkins, in great surprise. "Whereabouts?"
"In Tacoma. I own some lots there."
"Then let me tell you, my boy, that you will be a rich man."
"But I thought prices of land in Tacoma were small."
"So they are--at present; but it is the future terminus of the NorthernPacific Railro
ad. When it is completed there will be a boom. How manylots do you own?"
"Five."
"Take my advice and hold on to them. What square is this?"
They had reached Seventeenth Street.
"Union Square."
"It's a pretty place. Is Tiffany's near here?"
"Yes, sir; only two blocks away. We shall pass it."
"All right! Point it out to me. I'm going to buy a gold watch formyself there. I've needed one for a long time, but I wanted thesatisfaction of buying one at Tiffany's. Anything that is sold theremust be A No. 1."
"I have no doubt of it, but I don't trade there much yet."
"No; you must wait till you have realized on your Western lots."
They turned down Fourteenth Street, and soon stood in front of Mr.Fairchild's office. They entered, and this brings us to the point wherethe last chapter ends.