He mentioned his grievance to his friend, Dick Rafferty.
"I'll tell you what to do," said Dick.
"I wish you would."
"Keep some of the money you make by selling papers, and buy a squaremeal at an eatin' house."
"I don't like to do that; it wouldn't be honest."
"Why wouldn't it?"
"I am carrying on the business for Mr. Mills. He supplies the capital."
"Then you'd better carry it on for yourself."
"I wish I could."
"Why don't you?"
"I haven't any money."
"Has he paid you any wages?"
"No."
"Then make him."
Frank thought this a good suggestion. He had been with Mills a week, andit seemed fair enough that he should receive some pay besides a wretchedbed and a little dry bread. Accordingly, returning to the room, hebroached the subject.
"What do you want wages for?" demanded Mills, displeased.
"I think I earn them," said Frank, boldly.
"You get board and lodging. You are better off than a good many boys."
"I shall want some clothes, some time," said Frank.
"Perhaps you'd like to have me pay you a dollar a day," said Mills.
"I know you can't afford to pay me that. I will be satisfied if you willpay me ten cents a day," replied Frank.
Frank reflected that, though this was a very small sum, in ten days itwould give him a dollar, and then he would feel justified in setting upa business on his own account, as a newsboy. He anxiously awaited ananswer.
"I will think of it," said the blind man evasively, and Frank did notventure to say more.
The next day, when Mills, led by Frank, was on his round, the twoentered a cigar-store. Frank was much surprised when the cigar-venderhanded him a fifty-cent currency note. He thought there was somemistake.
"Thank you, sir," he said; "but did you mean to give me fifty cents?"
"Yes," said the cigar-vender, laughing; "but I wouldn't have done it, ifit had been good."
"Isn't it good?"
"No, it's a counterfeit, and a pretty bad one. I might pass it, but itwould cost me too much time and trouble."
Frank was confounded. He mechanically handed the money to Mills, but didnot again thank the giver. When they returned to the tenement-house,Mills requested Frank to go to the baker's for a loaf of bread.
"Yes, sir."
"Here is the money."
"But that is the counterfeit note," said Frank, scrutinizing the billgiven him.
"What if it is?" demanded Mills, sharply.
"It won't pass."
"Yes, it will, if you are sharp."
"Do you want me to pass counterfeit money, Mr. Mills?"
"Yes, I do; I took it, and I mean to get rid of it."
"But you didn't give anything for it."
"That's neither here nor there. Take it, and offer it to the baker. Ifhe won't take it, go to another baker with it."
"I would rather not do it," said Frank, firmly.
"Rather not!" exclaimed Mills, angrily. "Do you pretend to dictate tome?"
"No, I don't, but I don't mean to pass any counterfeit money for you orany other man," said Frank, with spirit.
Mills half rose, with a threatening gesture, but thought better of it.
"You're a fool," said he. "I suppose you are afraid of being arrested;but you have only to say that I gave it to you, and that I am blind, andcouldn't tell it from good money."
"But you know that it is bad money, Mr. Mills."
"What if I do? No one can prove it. Take the money, and come back asquick as you can."
"You must excuse me," said Frank, quietly, but firmly.
"Do you refuse to do as I bid you?" demanded Mills, furiously.
"I refuse to pass counterfeit money."
"Then, by Heaven, I'll flog you!"
Mills rose and advanced directly towards Frank, with his eyes wide open.Fortunately our hero was near the door, and, quickly opening it, dartedfrom the room, pursued by Mills, his face flaming with wrath. Itflashed upon Frank that no blind man could have done this. He decidedthat the man was a humbug, and could see a little, at all events. Hisblindness was no doubt assumed to enable him to appeal more effectivelyto the sympathizing public. This revelation disgusted Frank. He couldnot respect a man who lived by fraud. Counterfeit or no counterfeit, hedecided to withdraw at once and forever from the service of Mr. Mills.
His employer gave up the pursuit before he reached the street. Frankfound himself on the sidewalk, free and emancipated, no richer than whenhe entered the service of the blind man, except in experience.
"I haven't got a cent," he said to himself, "but I'll get alongsomehow."
CHAPTER VI.
FRANK GETS A JOB.
Though Frank was penniless he was not cast down. He was tolerablyfamiliar with the lower part of the city, and had greater reliance onhimself than he had a week ago. If he had only had capital to the extentof fifty cents he would have felt quite at ease, for this would have sethim up as a newsboy.
"I wonder if I could borrow fifty cents of Dick Rafferty," consideredFrank. "I'll try, at any rate."
He ran across Dick in City-Hall Park. That young gentleman was engagedin pitching pennies with a brother professional.
"I say, Dick, I want to speak to you a minute," said Frank.
"All right! Go ahead!"
"I've lost my place."
Dick whistled.
"Got sacked, have you?" he asked.
"Yes; but I might have stayed."
"Why didn't you?"
"Mills wanted me to pass a counterfeit note, and I wouldn't."
"Was it a bad-looking one?"
"Yes."
"Then you're right. You might have got nabbed."
"That wasn't the reason I refused. If I had been sure there'd have beenno trouble I wouldn't have done it."
"Why not?" asked Dick, who did not understand our hero's scruples.
"Because it's wrong."
Dick shrugged his shoulders.
"I guess you belong to the church," he said.
"No, I don't; what makes you think so?"
"Oh, 'cause you're so mighty particular. I wouldn't mind passing it if Iwas sure I wouldn't be cotched."
"I think it's almost as bad as stealing to buy bread, or anything else,and give what isn't worth anything for it. You might as well give apiece of newspaper."
Though Frank was unquestionably right he did not succeed in making aconvert of Dick Rafferty. Dick was a pretty good boy, considering thesort of training he had had; but passing bad money did not seem to himobjectionable, unless "a fellow was cotched," as he expressed it.
"Well, what are you going to do now?" asked Dick, after a pause.
"I guess I can get a living by selling papers."
"You can get as good a livin' as old Mills gave you. You'll get a betterbed at the lodgin'-house than that heap of rags you laid on up there."
"But there's one trouble," continued Frank, "I haven't any money tostart on. Can you lend me fifty cents?"
"Fifty cents!" repeated Dick. "What do you take me for? If I wasconnected with Vanderbuilt or Astor I might set you up in business, butnow I can't."
"Twenty-five cents will do," said Frank.
"Look here, Frank," said Dick, plunging his hands into his pocket, anddrawing therefrom three pennies and a nickel, "do you see them?"
"Yes."
"Well, it's all the money I've got."
"I am afraid you have been extravagant, Dick," said Frank, indisappointment.
"Last night I went to Tony Pastor's, and when I got through I went intoa saloon and got an ice-cream and a cigar. You couldn't expect a fellerto be very rich after that. I say, I'll lend you five cents if you wantit."
"No, thank you, Dick. I'll wait till you are richer."
"I tell you what, Frank, I'll save up my money, and by day afterto-morrow I guess I can set you up."
> "Thank you, Dick. If I don't have the money by that time myself I'llaccept your offer."
There was no other boy with whom Frank felt sufficiently well acquaintedto request a loan, and he walked away, feeling rather disappointed. Itwas certainly provoking to think that nothing but the lack of a smallsum stood between him and remunerative employment. Once started hedetermined not to spend quite all his earnings, but to improve upon hisfriend Dick's practice, and, if possible, get a little ahead.
When guiding the blind man he often walked up Broadway, and mechanicallyhe took the same direction, walking slowly along, occasionally stoppingto look in at a shop-window.
As he was sauntering along he found himself behind two gentlemen,--onean old man, who wore gold spectacles; the other, a stout,pleasant-looking man, of middle age. Frank would not have noticed themparticularly but for a sudden start and exclamation from the elder ofthe two gentlemen.
"I declare, Thompson," he said, "I've left my umbrella down-town."
"Where do you think you left it?"
"In Peckham's office; that is, I think I left it there."
"Oh, well, he'll save it for you."
"I don't know about that. Some visitor may carry it away."
"Never mind, Mr. Bowen. You are rich enough to afford a new one."
"It isn't the value of the article, Thompson," said his friend, in someemotion. "That umbrella was brought me from Paris by my son John, whodied. It is as a souvenir of him that I regard and value it. I would notlose it for a hundred dollars, nay, five hundred."
"If you value it so much, sir, suppose we turn round and go back forit."
Frank had listened to this conversation, and an idea struck him.Pressing forward, he said respectfully, "Let me go for it, sir. I willget it, and bring it to your house."
The two gentlemen fixed their eyes upon the bright, eager face of thepetitioner.
"Who are you, my boy?" asked Mr. Thompson.
"I am a poor boy, in want of work," answered our hero promptly.
"What is your name?"
"Frank Kavanagh."
"Where do you live?"
"I am trying to live in the city, sir."
"What have you been doing?"
"Leading a blind man, sir."
"Not a very pleasant employment, I should judge," said Thompson,shrugging his shoulders. "Well, have you lost that job?"
"Yes, sir."
"So the blind man turned you off, did he?"
"Yes, sir."
"Your services were unsatisfactory, I suppose?"
"He wanted me to pass counterfeit money for him, and I refused."
"If that is true, it is to your credit."
"It is true, sir," said Frank, quietly.
"Come, Mr. Bowen, what do you say,--shall we accept this boy's services?It will save you time and trouble."
"If I were sure he could be trusted," said Bowen, hesitating. "He mightpawn the umbrella. It is a valuable one."
"I hope, sir, you won't think so badly of me as that," said Frank, withfeeling. "If I were willing to steal anything, it would not be a giftfrom your dead son."
"I'll trust you, my boy," said the old gentleman quickly. "Your toneconvinces me that you may be relied upon."
"Thank you, sir."
The old gentleman drew a card from his pocket, containing his name andaddress, and on the reverse side wrote the name of the friend at whoseoffice he felt sure the umbrella had been left, with a brief notedirecting that it be handed to the bearer.
"All right, sir."
"Stop a moment, my boy. Have you got money to ride?"
"No, sir."
"Here, take this, and go down at once in the next stage. The sooner youget there the better."
Frank followed directions. He stopped the next stage, and got on board.As he passed the City-Hall Park, Dick Rafferty espied him. Frank noddedto him.
"How did he get money enough to ride in a 'bus?" Dick asked himself inmuch wonderment. "A few minutes ago he wanted to borrow some money ofme, and now he's spending ten cents for a ride. Maybe he's found apocket-book."
Frank kept on his way, and got out at Wall street. He found Mr.Peckham's office, and on presenting the card, much to his delight, theumbrella was handed him.
"Mr. Bowen was afraid to trust me with it over night," said Mr. Peckham,with a smile.
"He thought some visitor might carry it off," said Frank.
"Not unlikely. Umbrellas are considered common property."
Frank hailed another stage, and started on his way up-town. There was noelevated railway then, and this was the readiest conveyance, as Mr.Bowen lived on Madison avenue.
CHAPTER VII.
AN INVITATION TO DINNER.
"Mr. Bowen must be a rich man," thought Frank, as he paused on the stepsof a fine brown-stone mansion, corresponding to the number on his card.
He rang the bell, and asked, "Is Mr. Bowen at home?"
"Yes, but he is in his chamber. I don't think he will see you."
"I think he will," said Frank, who thought the servant was taking toomuch upon herself, "as I come by his appointment."
"I suppose you can come into the hall," said the servant, reluctantly."Is your business important?"
"You may tell him that the boy he sent for his umbrella has brought it.He was afraid he had lost it."
"He sets great store by that umbrella," said the girl, in a differenttone. "I'll go and tell him."
Mr. Bowen came downstairs almost immediately. There was a look ofextreme gratification upon his face.
"Bless my soul, how quick you were!" he exclaimed. "Why, I've only beenhome a few minutes. Did you find the umbrella at Mr. Peckham's office?"
"Yes, sir; it had been found, and taken care of."
"Did Peckham say anything?"
"He said you were probably afraid to trust it with him over night, buthe smiled when he said it."
"Peckham will have his joke, but he is an excellent man. My boy, I ammuch indebted to you."
"I was very glad to do the errand, sir," said Frank.
"I think you said you were poor," said the old man, thoughtfully.
"Yes, sir. When I met you I hadn't a cent in the world."
"Haven't you any way to make a living?"
"Yes, sir. I could sell papers if I had enough money to set me up inbusiness."
"Does it require a large capital?"
"Oh, no, sir," said Frank, smiling, "unless you consider fifty cents alarge sum."
"Fifty cents!" repeated the old gentleman, in surprise. "You don't meanto say that this small sum would set you up in business?"
"Yes, sir; I could buy a small stock of papers, and buy more with what Ireceived for them."
"To be sure. I didn't think of that."
Mr. Bowen was not a man of business. He had an ample income, and histastes were literary and artistic. He knew more of books than of men,and more of his study than of the world.
"Well, my boy," he said after a pause, "how much do I owe you for doingthis errand?"
"I leave that to you, sir. Whatever you think right will satisfy me."
"Let me see, you want fifty cents to buy papers, and you will requiresomething to pay for your bed."
"Fifty cents in all will be enough, sir."
"I think I had better give you a dollar," said the old gentleman,opening his pocket-book.
Frank's eyes sparkled. A dollar would do him a great deal of good; witha dollar he would feel quite independent.
"Thank you, sir," he said. "It is more than I earned, but it will bevery acceptable."
He put on his hat, and was about to leave the house, when Mr. Bowensuddenly said, "Oh, I think you'd better stay to dinner. It will be onthe table directly. My niece is away, and if you don't stay I shall bealone."
Frank did not know what to say. He was rather abashed by the invitation,but, as the old gentleman was to be alone, it did not seem soformidable.
"I am afraid I don't look fit," he said.
"You
can go upstairs and wash your face and hands. You'll find aclothes-brush there also. I'll ring for Susan to show you the way."
He rang the bell, and the girl who had admitted Frank made herappearance.
"Susan," said her master, "you may show this young gentlemen into theback chamber on the third floor, and see that he is supplied with towelsand all he needs. And you may lay an extra plate; he will dine with me."
Susan stared first at Mr. Bowen, and then at Frank, but did not ventureto make any remark.
"This way, young man," she said, and ascended the front stairs, Frankfollowing her closely.
She led the way into a handsomely furnished chamber, ejaculating, "Well,I never!"
"I hope you'll find things to your satisfaction, sir," she said, dryly."If we'd known you were coming, we'd have made particular preparationsfor you."
"Oh, I think this will do," said Frank, smiling for he thought it a goodjoke.
"I am glad you think it'll do," continued Susan. "Things mayn't be asnice as you're accustomed to at home."
"Not quite," said Frank, good-humoredly; "but I shan't complain."
"That's very kind and considerate of you, I'm sure," said Susan, tossingher head. "Well, I never did!"
"Nor I either, Susan," said Frank, laughing. "I am a poor boy, and I amnot used to this way of living; so if you'll be kind enough to give meany hints, so I may behave properly at the table, I'll be very muchobliged to you."