A Boy's Fortune

CHAPTER XI.

The Home of Poverty

The time has come to introduce some new characters, who will play a part in my story.

Five minutes' walk from Bleecker street, in a tall, shabby tenement house, divided, as the custom is, into suites of three rooms, or rather two, one being a common room, and the other being subdivided into two small, narrow chambers, lived Rose and Adeline Beaufort, respectively nineteen and seventeen years of age, and their young brother Harry, a boy of thirteen.

It is five o'clock in the afternoon when we look in upon them.

"Rose," said her sister, "you look very tired. Can't you leave off for an hour and rest?"

Rose was bending over a vest which she was making. Her drooping figure and the lines on her face bespoke fatigue, yet her fingers swiftly plied the needle, and she seemed anxiously intent upon her task.

She shook her head in answer to her sister's words.

"No, Addie," she said; "it won't do for me to stop. You know how little I earn at the most. I can't make more than one vest in a day, and I get but thirty-five cents apiece."

"I know it, Rose," replied Adeline, with a sigh; "it is a great deal of work to do for that paltry sum. If I were able to help you we might get along better, even at such wages. I feel that I am very useless, and a burden on you and Harry."

"You mustn't think anything of the kind, Addie," said Rose, quickly, looking affectionately at her sister. "You know you are not strong enough to work."

"And so you have to work the harder, Rose."

"Never mind, Addie; I am strong, and I enjoy working for you."

"But still I am so useless."

"You chase us up, and we can work all the better."

"I earn nothing. I wonder if I shall always be so weak and useless?"

"No. Don't you remember the doctor said you would in all probability outgrow your weakness and be as strong as I am? All that is needed is patience."

"Ah, it is not so easy to be always patient – when I think, too, of how differently we should have been situated if grandfather had treated us justly."

A shadow came over the face of Rose.

"Yes; I don't like to think of that. Why should he have left all his property to our cousin Philip and none to us?"

"But if Philip should die it would all be ours, so Mr. Codicil says."

"I don't want anything to happen to the poor boy."

"Nor I, Rose. But don't you think he might do something for us?"

"So he would, very probably, if he were left to himself; but you know he is under the guardianship of that uncle of his, Richard Grafton, who is said to be intensely selfish and wholly unprincipled. He means to live as handsomely as he can at Philip's expense."

"Did grandfather appoint him guardian?"

"I believe so. Richard Grafton is very artful, and he led grandfather to believe him fitted to be an excellent guardian for the boy."

"I suppose he is in Europe?"

"No; I heard from Mr. Codicil, yesterday, that he was in New York."

"Is Philip with him?"

"Yes. He was to take the boy to Mr. Codicil's office to-day. There was a report some time since – I did not mention it to you for fear of exciting you – that Philip was dead. Mr. Codicil wrote to Mr. Grafton to make inquiry. In answer, he has come to New York, bringing Philip with him. While the boy lives, he receives an annual income of six thousand dollars for the boy's expenses, and to compensate him for his guardianship. You see, therefore, that Philip's death would make a great difference to him."

"And to us," sighed Adeline.

"Addie," said Rose, gravely, "don't allow yourself to wish for the death of our young cousin. It would be wicked."

"I know it, Rose; but when I consider how hard you work, and how confined Harry is as a cash-boy, I am strongly tempted."

"Then put away the temptation, and trust to a good Providence to take good care of us. God will not fail us."

"I wish I had your faith, Rose," said her younger sister.

"So you would, Addie, if you had my strength," said Rose, in an affectionate tone. "It is harder for you to be idle than for me to work."

"You are right there, Rose. I only wish I could work. Do you know where Philip and his guardian are staying?"

"Yes; Mr. Codicil told me they were staying at the Metropolitan Hotel."

"Did you ever see Philip?"

"Not since he was a little boy. I would not know him."

"Do you suppose he knows anything about us?"

"Probably Mr. Grafton never mentions us. Yet he must know that he has cousins living, but he may not know how hard we have to struggle for a livelihood."

"I wish we could get a chance to speak to him. He might feel disposed to help us."

"Probably his power is not great. He is only sixteen, and I presume has little command of money."

"How do you think it would do for Harry to carry him a letter, asking him to call upon us?"

"His guardian would intercept it."

"It might be delivered to him privately."

"There is something in what you say," returned Rose, thoughtfully. "He is our cousin, and we are his only living relatives. It would only be proper for him to call upon us."

"The sooner we communicate with him the better, then," said Adeline, whose temperament was quick and impulsive. "Suppose I write a letter and get Harry to carry it to the hotel when he comes home."

"As you please, Addie. I would write it, but I want to finish this vest to-night."

"I will write it. I want to be of some little use."

She rose, and with languid step drew near the table. Procuring writing materials, she penned a brief note, which she handed to Rose, when completed, with the inquiry, "How will that do?"

Rose cast her eyes rapidly over the brief note, which read as follows:

"Dear Cousin Philip: – No doubt you are aware that you have three cousins in this city – my sister Rose, my brother Harry, who will hand you this note, and myself. We have not seen you for many years. Will it be too much to ask you to call on us? We are in humble quarters, but shall be glad to welcome you to our poor home.

In a line below, the address was given.

"That will do very nicely, Addie," said Rose. "I am glad you did not hint at our need of assistance."

"If he comes to see us, he can see that for himself. I hope something may come of it," continued the younger sister.

"Don't count too much on it, or your disappointment will be the more keen."

"Harry can carry it around after supper."

"Philip may be at supper."

"Then he can wait. I wish he would come home."

As if in answer to her wish the door was hastily opened, and a bright, ruddy-faced boy entered.

"Welcome back, Harry," said Rose, with a smile. "How have you passed the day?"

"Running round as usual, Rose. It's no joke to be a cash-boy."

"I wish I could run round, Harry," sighed Addie.

"So do I. That would be jolly. How are you feeling to-day, Addie?"

"About the same. Are you very tired?"

"Oh, no; only about the same as usual."

"Because I would like to have you do an errand for me."

"Of course I will," said Harry, cheerfully. "What is it?"

"I want you to take this note to the Metropolitan Hotel."

"Who do you know there?" asked Harry, in surprise.

An explanation was given.

"I want you to be very particular to give the note to Philip without his guardian's knowledge. Can you manage it?"

"I'll try. I'll go the first thing after supper."

CHAPTER XII.

A Surprising Announcement

Harry Beaufort entered the Metropolitan Hotel with the confidence of a city boy who knew that hotels are places of general resort, and that his entrance would not attract attention. He walked slowly through to the rear, looking about him guardedly to see if he could discover anybody who answered to his idea of Philip Grafton. Had he seen Ben, he would doubtless have supposed that he was the cousin of whom he was in search; but Ben had come in about five o'clock and had gone out again with his friend, the reporter, who had called for him.

Thus Harry looked in vain, and was disposed to think that he would have to leave the hotel with his errand unaccomplished. This he didn't like to do. He concluded, therefore, to go up to the desk and inquire of the clerk.

"Is there a boy staying here named Philip Grafton?" asked Harry.

"Yes, my boy. Do you want to see him?" returned the clerk.

"Yes, sir, if you please."

"He went out half an hour since," said a bell-boy, who chanced to be near.

"You can leave any message," said the clerk.

"I have a note for him," said Harry, in a doubtful tone.

"I will give it to him when he comes in."

Harry hesitated. He had been told to put the note into Philip's own hand. But there was no knowing when Philip would come in.

"I guess it'll do to leave it," he thought. "Please give it into his own hands," he said; and the clerk carelessly assented.

Harry left the hotel, and five minutes later Richard Grafton, or Major Richard Grafton, as he called himself, entered and walked up to the clerk's desk.

"Any letters or cards for me?" he asked.

"There's a note for your nephew," said the clerk, producing the one just left.

"Ha!" said the major, pricking up his ears suspiciously. "Very well, I will take it and give it to him."

Of course the clerk presumed that this was all right, and passed it over.

Major Grafton took the note carelessly and sauntered into the reading-room, where he deliberately opened it.

"I must see who is writing to Philip," he said to himself. "It may be necessary to suppress the note."

As he read the note, the contents of which are already familiar to the reader, his brow darkened with anger and anxiety.

"It is fortunate that this came into my hands," he reflected. "It would have puzzled the boy, and had he gone to see these people the murder would have been out and probably my plans would have ended in disaster. There is something about the boy that leads me to doubt whether he would second my plans if he suspected what they were. I must devise some means for throwing these people off the scent and keeping the boy in the dark. What shall I do?"

After a little reflection, Major Grafton decided to remove at once to a different hotel. He resolved to do it that very night, lest there should be another attempt made to communicate with his young secretary. He must wait, however, till Ben returned.

Half an hour later Ben entered, and found the major walking impatiently up and down the office.

"I thought you would never come back," he said, impatiently.

"I am sorry if I inconvenienced you, sir," Ben said. "I didn't know you wished me back early."

"Come up stairs with me and pack. We are going to leave the hotel."

"Where are we going?" asked Ben in surprise.

"You will know very soon," answered the major.

Major Grafton notified the clerk that he wished a hack in fifteen minutes, as he was about to leave the hotel.

"Very well, major. Are you going to leave the city?"

"Not at once. I may spend a few days at the house of a friend," answered Grafton, evasively.

"Shall we forward any letters?"

"No; I will call here for them."

In fifteen minutes a porter called at the door of Major Grafton's room and took down the two trunks. A hack was in waiting.

"Where to, sir?" asked the driver.

"You may drive to the Windsor Hotel," was the answer.

The Windsor Hotel, on Fifth avenue, is over two miles farther up town than the Metropolitan. Leaning back in his comfortable seat, Ben enjoyed the ride, and was pleased with the quiet, aristocratic appearance of the Windsor. A good suite of rooms was secured, and he found himself even more luxuriously accommodated than at the Metropolitan.

"I wonder why we have changed our hotel," he thought.

As if aware what was passing through his mind, Major Grafton said:

"This hotel is much more conveniently located for my business than the other."

"It seems a very nice hotel," said Ben.

"There is none better in New York."

"I wonder what his business is," passed through Ben's mind, but he was afraid of offending by the inquiry.

Another thing puzzled him. He was ostensibly Major Grafton's private secretary, and as such was paid a liberal salary, but thus far he had not been called upon to render any service. There was nothing in this to complain of, to be sure. If Major Grafton chose to pay him for doing nothing, that was his lookout. Meanwhile he would be able to save up at least half of his salary, and transmit it to his mother.

When they were fairly installed in their new home Major Grafton said:

"I have a call to make, and shall be absent till late. I suppose you can take care of yourself?"

"Oh, yes, sir. If there is anything you wish me to do – "

"Not this evening. I have not got my affairs settled yet. That is all the better for you, as you can spend your time as you choose."

About an hour later, as Ben was in the billiard-room, looking with interest at a game, his cousin, Clarence Plantagenet, and Percy Van Dyke entered.

"How are you?" said Clarence, graciously. "Percy, this is my cousin, Ben Baker."

"Glad to see you, I'm sure," said Percy.

"Won't you join us in a little game?"

"No, thank you," answered Ben. "I don't play billiards."

"Then you ought to learn."

"I thought you said you were staying at the Metropolitan," said Plantagenet.

"So I was, but we have moved to the Windsor."

"Have you a good room?"

"Tip-top!"

"Does that mean on the top floor?" asked Percy, laughing.

"Not exactly. We are on the third floor."

"Come, Percy, here's a table. Let us have a game."

They began to play, and Ben sat down in a comfortable arm-chair and looked on. Though neither of the boys was an expert, they played a fair game, and Ben was interested in watching it.

"It's wonderful how he's improved," thought Clarence. "When I saw him in pa's office I thought he was awkward and gawky; now he looks just like one of us. He's had great luck in falling in with this Major Grafton. Really, I think we can afford to recognize him as a relation."

When the boys had played a couple of games, they prepared to go.

"By the way, Ben," said Clarence, "the governor told me to invite you to dinner on Sunday. Have you any other engagement?"

"Not that I know of. I will come if I can."

"That's right. Ta-ta, old fellow."

"He treats me a good deal better than he did when we first met," thought Ben. "There's a great deal of virtue in good clothes, I expect."

Ben was asleep before Major Grafton came home.

In the morning, when he awoke, he found that the major was already dressing.

"By the way, Philip," said his employer, quietly, "we sail for Europe this afternoon at three."

"Sail for Europe!" ejaculated Ben, overwhelmed with surprise.

"Yes. See that your trunk is packed by eleven."

CHAPTER XIII.

A Farewell Call

Ben was startled by Major Grafton's abrupt proposal. To go to Europe would be delightful, he admitted to himself, but to start at a few hours' notice was naturally exciting. What would his mother and sister say?

"I suppose there isn't time for me to go home and see my mother before sailing?" he ventured to say, interrogatively.

"As we are to sail at three o'clock this afternoon, you can judge for yourself about that," said the major, coolly. "Don't you want to go?"

"Oh, yes, sir. There is nothing I should like better. I should like to have said good-by to my mother, but – "

"Unfortunately, you can't. I am glad you take so sensible a view of the matter. I will depend on you to be ready."

"How long shall we probably be gone?" asked Ben.

"I can tell you better some weeks hence, Philip. By the way," he added, after a moment's thought, "if any letters should come here addressed to you, don't open them till I come back."

Ben looked at the major in surprise. Why should he not open any letters that came for him? He was not likely, he thought, to receive any except from Sunderland.

"I will explain," continued the major. "There are some people in the city that are continually writing begging letters to me. They use every method to annoy me, and might go so far as to write to you and ask your intercession."

"I understand," said Ben, unsuspiciously.

"I thought you would," returned the major, evidently relieved. "Of course if you get any letter from home you will open that."

"Thank you, sir."

After breakfast Major Grafton left the hotel without saying where he was going, and Ben addressed himself first to packing his trunk, and then going down to the reading-room. There he sat down and wrote a letter to his mother, which ran thus:

"Dear Mother: – I can imagine how much you will be surprised when I tell you that when this letter reaches you I shall be on my way to Europe. Major Grafton, my employer, only told me an hour since, and we sail this afternoon at three. I should be glad to come home and bid you and my little sister good-by, but there is no time. I know you will miss me, but it is a splendid chance for me to go, and I shall be receiving a liberal salary, out of which I can send you money from time to time. I know I shall enjoy myself, for I have always had a longing to go to Europe, though I did not dream that I should have the chance so soon. I will write to you as soon as we get on the other side.

"P. S. – We sail on the Parthia."

It may be readily understood that this letter made a great sensation in Sunderland. Mrs. Baker hardly knew whether to be glad or sorry. It was hard to part from Ben for an uncertain period. On the other hand, all her friends congratulated her on Ben's great success in securing so good a position and salary. It was certainly a remarkable stroke of good fortune.

Ben was about to write another letter to Clarence, explaining why he could not accept the invitation for dinner on Sunday, but a glance at the clock showed him that he would have a chance to go to his uncle's store, and that seemed, on the whole, more polite.

He jumped on board a Broadway car at Twenty-third street, and half an hour later got out in front of his uncle's large business establishment. He entered with quite a different feeling from that attending his first visit, when, in his country attire, poor and without prospects, he came to make an appeal to his rich uncle.

Handsome clothes are apt to secure outward respect, and one of the salesmen came forward, obsequiously, and asked:

"What can I show you, young gentleman?"

"Nothing, thank you," answered Ben, politely. "Is my uncle in?"

"Your uncle?"

"Mr. Walton."

"Oh, yes; you will find him in his office."

"Thank you."

Nicholas Walton looked up as Ben entered his presence, and did not immediately recognize the handsomely-dressed boy who stood before him. He concluded that it was one of Clarence's high-toned acquaintances.

"Did you wish to see Clarence?" he asked affably. "I am sorry to say that he has not been in this morning."

"I should like to see him, Uncle Nicholas; but I also wished to see you."

"Oh, it's Ben!" said Mr. Walton, in a slightly changed tone.

"Yes, uncle; I met my cousin at the Windsor last evening."

"He told me so. You are staying there, he says."

"For a very short time. My cousin was kind enough to invite me to dinner on Sunday."

"Yes; we shall be glad to have you dine with us."

"I am sorry I cannot come. I am to sail for Europe this afternoon."

"You sail for Europe!" repeated his uncle, in amazement.

"Yes, uncle. I knew nothing of it till this morning."