Cast Upon the Breakers
- -
- 100%
- +
“Very well. Whats your name, my lad?”
“Rodney Ropes.”
“Make a note of his name, Mr. James, and enter it in the books. You may go with Mr. James, and put yourself at his disposal.”
Rodney followed the subordinate, who was the head of one of the departments, to the second floor. Here Mr. James had a desk.
“Wait a minute,” he said, “and I will give you a memorandum of places to call at.”
In five minutes a memorandum containing a list of three places was given to Rodney, with brief instructions as to what he was to do at each. They were places not far away, and fortunately Rodney had a general idea as to where they were.
In his search for positions he had made a study of the lower part of the city which now stood him in good stead.
As he walked towards the door he attracted the attention of the young clerk with whom he had just spoken.
“Well, did you see Mr. Goodnow?” asked the young man, stroking a sickly looking mustache.
“Yes.”
“Has he taken you into the firm?”
“Not yet, but he has given me a place.”
The clerk whistled.
“So you are one of us?” he said.
“Yes,” answered Rodney with a smile.
“Then you ought to know the rules of the house.”
“You can tell me later on, but now I am going out on an errand.”
In about an hour Rodney returned. He had been detained at two of the places where he called.
“Do you remember what I said?” asked the young clerk as he passed.
“Yes.”
“The first rule of the establishment is for a new hand to treat ME on his first day.”
“That’s pretty good for you,” said Rodney, laughing; “I shall have to wait till my pay is raised.”
About the middle of the afternoon, as Rodney was helping to unpack a crate of goods, the older boy whom he had already seen in the office below, walked up to him and said, “Is your name Ropes?”
“Yes.”
“You are wanted in Mr. Goodnow’s office.”
Rodney went down stairs, feeling a little nervous. Had he done wrong, and was he to be reprimanded?
He could think of nothing deserving censure. So far as he knew he had attended faithfully to all the duties required of him.
As he entered the office, he saw that Mr. Goodnow had a visitor, whose face looked familiar to him. He recalled it immediately as the face of the English gentleman who had visited the Lodging House the day previous with his employer.
“So I find you at work?” he said, offering his hand with a smile.
“Yes, sir,” answered Rodney gratefully, “thanks to you.”
“How do you think you will like it?”
“Very much, sir. It is so much better than going around the street with nothing to do.”
“I hope you will try to give satisfaction to my friend, Mr. Goodnow.”
“I shall try to do so, sir.”
“You mustn’t expect to rise to be head salesman in a year. Festina lente, as the Latin poet has it.”
“I shall be satisfied with hastening slowly, sir.”
“What! you understand Latin?”
“Pretty well, sir.”
“Upon my word, I didn’t expect to find a boy in the News boys’ Lodging House with classical attainments. Perhaps you know something of Greek also!” he said doubtfully.
In reply Rodney repeated the first line of the Iliad.
“Astonishing!” exclaimed Mr. Mulgrave, putting up his eyeglass, and surveying Rodney as if he were a curious specimen. “You don’t happen to know anything of Sanscrit, do you?”
“No, sir; I confess my ignorance.”
“I apprehend you won’t require it in my friend Goodnow’s establishment.”
“If I do, I will learn it,” said Rodney, rather enjoying the joke.
“If I write a book about America, I shall certainly put in a paragraph about a learned office boy. I think you are entitled to something for your knowledge of Greek and Latin—say five dollars apiece,” and Mr. Mulgrave drew from his pocket two gold pieces and handed them to Rodney.
“Thank you very much, sir,” said Rodney. “I shall find this money very useful, as I have taken a room, and am setting up housekeeping.”
“Then you have left the Lodging House?”
“Yes, sir; I only spent one night there.”
“You are right. It is no doubt a great blessing to the needy street boys, but you belong to a different class.”
“It is very fortunate I went there last evening, or I should not have met you and Mr. Goodnow.”
“I am glad to have been the means of doing you a service,” said the Englishman kindly, shaking hands with Rodney, who bowed and went back to his work.
“I am not sure but you are taking too much notice of that boy, Mulgrave,” said the merchant.
“No fear! He is not a common boy. You won’t regret employing him.”
“I hope not.”
Then they talked of other matters, for Mr. Mulgrave was to start on his return to England the following day.
At five o’clock Rodney’s day was over, and he went back to Bleecker Street. He found Mike already there, working hard to get his hands clean, soiled as they were by the stains of blacking.
“Did you have a good day, Mike?” asked Rodney.
“Yes; I made a dollar and ten cents. Here’s a quarter towards the rent.”
“All right! I see you are prompt in money matters.”
“I try to be. Do you know, Rodney, I worked better for feelin’ that I had a room of my own to go to after I got through. I hope I’ll soon be able to get into a different business.”
“I hope so, too.”
Two days later Rodney’s trunk arrived. In the evening he opened it. He took out a dark mixed suit about half worn, and said, “Try that on, Mike.”
Mike did so. It fitted as if it were made for him.
“You can have it, Mike,” said Rodney.
“You don’t mean it?” exclaimed Mike, delighted.
“Yes, I do. I have plenty of others.”
Rodney supplemented his gift by a present of underclothing, and on the following Sunday the two boys went to Central Park in the afternoon, Mike so transformed that some of his street friends passed him without recognition, much to Mike’s delight.
CHAPTER X
MIKE PUTS ON A UNIFORM
A wonderful change came over Mike Flynn. Until he met Rodney he seemed quite destitute of ambition. The ragged and dirty suit which he wore as bootblack were the best he had. His face and hands generally bore the marks of his business, and as long as he made enough to buy three meals a day, two taken at the Lodging House, with something over for lodging, and an occasional visit to a cheap theater, he was satisfied.
He was fifteen, and had never given a thought to what he would do when he was older. But after meeting Rodney, and especially after taking a room with him, he looked at life with different eyes. He began to understand that his business, though honorable because honest, was not a desirable one. He felt, too, that he ought to change it out of regard for Rodney, who was now his close companion.
“If I had ten dollars ahead,” he said one day, “I’d give up blackin’ boots.”
“What else would you do?”
“I’d be a telegraph boy. That’s more respectable than blackin’ boots, and it ‘ould be cleaner.”
“That is true. Do you need money to join?”
“I would get paid once in two weeks, and I’d have to live till I got my first salary.”
“I guess I can see you through, Mike.”
“No; you need all your money, Rodney. I’ll wait and see if I can’t save it myself.”
This, however, would have taken a long time, if Mike had not been favored by circumstances. He was standing near the ladies’ entrance to the Astor House one day, when casting his eyes downward he espied a neat pocketbook of Russia leather. He picked it up, and from the feeling judged that it must be well filled.
Now I must admit that it did occur to Mike that he could divert to his own use the contents without detection, as no one had seen him pick it up. But Mike was by instinct an honest boy, and he decided that this would not be right. He thrust it into his pocket, however, as he had no objection to receiving a reward if one was offered.
While he was standing near the entrance, a tall lady, dressed in brown silk and wearing glasses, walked up from the direction of Broadway. She began to peer about like one who was looking for something.
“I guess its hers,” thought Mike.
“Are you looking for anything, ma’am?” he asked.
She turned and glanced at Mike.
“I think I must have dropped my pocketbook,” she said. “I had it in my hand when I left the hotel, but I had something on my mind and I think I must have dropped it without noticing. Won’t you help me look for it, for I am short sighted?”
“Is this it?” asked Mike, producing the pocketbook.
“Oh yes!” exclaimed the lady joyfully. “Where did you find it?”
“Just here,” answered Mike, indicating a place on the sidewalk.
“I suppose there is a good deal of money in it?” said Mike, with pardonable curiosity.
“Then you didn’t open it?”
“No, ma’am, I didn’t have a chance. I just found it.”
“There may be forty or fifty dollars, but it isn’t on that account I should have regretted losing it. It contained a receipt for a thousand dollars which I am to use in a law suit. That is very important for it will defeat a dishonest claim for money that I have already paid.”
“Then I’m glad I found it.”
“You are an honest boy. You seem to be a poor boy also.”
“That’s true, ma’am. If I was rich I wouldn’t black boots for a livin’.”
“Dear me, you are one of the young street Arabs I’ve read about,” and the lady looked curiously at Mike through her glasses.
“I expect I am.”
“And I suppose you haven’t much money.”
“My bank account is very low, ma’am.”
“I’ve read a book about a boy named ‘Ragged Dick.’ I think he was a bootblack, too. Do you know him?”
“He’s my cousin, ma’am,” answered Mike promptly.
It will be observed that I don’t represent Mike as possessed of all the virtues.
“Dear me, how interesting. I bought the book for my little nephew. Now I can tell him I have seen ‘Ragged Dick’s’ cousin. Where is Dick now?”
“He’s reformed, ma’am.”
“Reformed?”
“Yes, from blackin’ boots. He’s in better business now.”
“If I should give you some of the money in this pocketbook, you wouldn’t spend it on drinking and gambling, would you?”
“No, ma’am. I’d reform like my cousin, Ragged Dick.”
“You look like a good truthful boy. Here are ten dollars for you.”
“Oh, thank you, ma’am! you’re a gentleman,” said Mike overjoyed. “No, I don’t mean that but I hope you’ll soon get a handsome husband.”
“My young friend, I don’t care to marry, though I appreciate your good wishes. I am an old maid from principle. I am an officer of the Female Suffrage Association.”
“Is it a good payin’ office, ma’am?” asked Mike, visibly impressed.
“No, but it is a position of responsibility. Please tell me your name that I may make a note of it.”
“My name is Michael Flynn.”
“I see. You are of Celtic extraction.”
“I don’t know, ma’am. I never heard that I was. It isn’t anything bad, is it?”
“Not at all. I have some Celtic blood in my own veins. If you ever come to Boston you can inquire for Miss Pauline Peabody.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” said Mike, who thought the lady rather a “queer lot.”
“Now I must call upon my lawyer, and leave the receipt which I came so near losing.”
“Well, I’m in luck,” thought Mike. “I’ll go home and dress up, and apply for a position as telegraph boy.”
When Rodney came home at supper time he found Mike, dressed in his Sunday suit.
“What’s up now, Mike?” he asked. “Have you retired from business?”
“Yes, from the bootblack business. Tomorrow I shall be a telegraph boy.”
“That is good. You haven’t saved up ten dollars, have you?”
“I saved up two, and a lady gave me ten dollars for findin’ her pocketbook.”
“That’s fine, Mike.”
There chanced to be a special demand for telegraph boys at that time, and Mike, who was a sharp lad, on passing the necessary examination, was at once set to work.
He was immensely fond of his blue uniform when he first put it on, and felt that he had risen in the social scale. True, his earnings did not average as much, but he was content with smaller pay, since the duties were more agreeable.
In the evenings under Rodney’s instruction he devoted an hour and sometimes two to the task of making up the deficiencies in his early education. These were extensive, but Mike was naturally a smart boy, and after a while began to improve rapidly.
So three months passed. Rodney stood well in with Mr. Goodnow, and was promoted to stock clerk. The discipline which he had revived as a student stood him in good stead, and enabled him to make more rapid advancement than some who had been longer in the employ of the firm. In particular he was promoted over the head of Jasper Redwood, a boy two years older than himself, who was the nephew of an old employee who had been for fifteen years in the house.
Jasper’s jealousy was aroused, and he conceived a great dislike for Rodney, of which Rodney was only partially aware.
For this dislike there was really no cause. Rodney stood in his way only because Jasper neglected his duties, and failed to inspire confidence. He was a boy who liked to spend money and found his salary insufficient, though he lived with his uncle and paid but two dollars a week for his board.
“Uncle James,” he said one day, “when do you think I will get a raise?”
“You might get one now if it were not for the new boy.”
“You mean Ropes.”
“Yes, he has just been promoted to a place which I hoped to get for you.”
“It is mean,” grumbled Jasper. “I have been here longer than he.”
“True, but he seems to be Mr. Goodnow’s pet. It was an unlucky day for you when he got a place in the establishment.”
“Did you ask Mr. Goodnow to promote me?”
“Yes, but he said he had decided to give Archer’s place to Ropes.”
Archer was a young clerk who was obliged, on account of pulmonary weakness, to leave New York and go to Southern California.
“How much does Ropes get now?”
“Seven dollars a week.”
“And I only get five, and I am two years older. They ought to have more regard for you, Uncle James, or I, as your nephew, would get promoted.”
“I will see what we can do about it.”
“I wish Ropes would get into some scrape and get discharged.”
It was a new idea, but Jasper dwelt upon it, and out of it grew trouble for Rodney.
CHAPTER XI
MISSING GOODS
James Redwood was summoned one morning to the counting room of his employer.
“Mr. Redwood,” said the merchant “I have reason to think that one of my clerks is dishonest.”
“Who, sir?”
“That is what I want you to find out.”
“What reason have you for suspecting any one?”
“Some ladies’ cloaks and some dress patterns are missing.”
“Are you sure they were not sold?”
“Yes: the record of sales has been examined, and they are not included.”
“That is strange, Mr. Goodnow,” said Redwood thoughtfully. “I hope I am not under suspicion.”
“Oh, not at all.”
“The losses seem to have taken place in my department.”
“True, but that doesn’t involve you.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Watch those under you. Let nothing in your manner, however, suggest that you are suspicious. I don’t want you to put any one on his guard.”
“All right, sir. I will be guided by your instructions. Have you any idea how long this has been going on?”
“Only a few weeks.”
Mr. Redwood turned to go back to his room, but Mr. Goodnow called him back.
“I needn’t suggest to you,” he said, “that you keep this to yourself. Don’t let any clerk into the secret.”
“Very well, sir.”
James Redwood, however, did not keep his promise. After supper he called back Jasper as he was about putting on his hat to go out, and said, “Jasper, I wish to speak with you for five minutes.”
“Won’t it do tomorrow morning? I have an engagement.”
“Put it off, then. This is a matter of importance.”
“Very well, sir,” and Jasper, albeit reluctantly, laid down his hat and sat down.
“Jasper,” said his uncle, “there’s a thief in our establishment.”
Jasper started, and his sallow complexion turned yellower than usual.
“What do you mean, uncle?” he asked nervously.
“What I say. Some articles are missing that have not been sold.”
“Such as what?”
“Ladies’ cloaks and dress patterns.”
“Who told you?” asked Jasper in a low tone.
“Mr. Goodnow.”
“What the boss?”
“Certainly.”
“How should he know?”
“I didn’t inquire, and if I had he probably wouldn’t have told me. The main thing is that he does know.”
“He may not be sure.”
“He is not a man to speak unless he feels pretty sure.”
“I don’t see how any one could steal the articles without being detected.”
“It seems they are detected.”
“Did—did Mr. Goodnow mention any names?”
“No. He wants to watch and find out the thief. I wish you to help me, though I am acting against instructions. Mr. Goodnow asked me to take no one into my confidence. You will see, therefore, that it will be necessary for you to say nothing.”
“I won’t breathe a word,” said Jasper, who seemed to feel more at ease.
“Now that I have told you so much, can you suggest any person who would be likely to commit the theft?”
Jasper remained silent for a moment, then with a smile of malicious satisfaction said, “Yes, I can suggest a person.”
“Who is it?”
“The new boy, Rodney Ropes.”
James Redwood shook his head.
“I can’t believe that it is he. I am not in love with the young fellow, who seems to stand in the way of your advancement but he seems straight enough, and I don’t think it at all likely that he should be the guilty person.”
“Yes, Uncle James, he SEEMS straight but you know that still waters run deep.”
“Have you seen anything that would indicate guilt on his part?”
“I have noticed this, that, he is very well dressed for a boy of his small salary, and seems always to have money to spend.”
“That will count for something. Still he might have some outide means. Have you noticed anything else?”
Jasper hesitated.
“I noticed one evening when he left the store that he had a sizable parcel under his arm.”
“And you think it might have contained some article stolen from the stock?”
“That’s just what I think now. Nothing of the kind occurred to me at that time, for I didn’t know any articles were missing.”
“That seems important. When was it that you noticed this?”
“One day last week,” answered Jasper hesitatingly.
“Can you remember the day?”
“No.”
“Couldn’t you fix it some way?”
“No. You see, I didn’t attach any particular importance to it at the time, and probably it would not have occurred to me again, but for your mentioning that articles were missing.”
“There may be something in what you say,” said his uncle thoughtfully. “I will take special notice of young Ropes after this.”
“So will I.”
“Don’t let him observe that he is watched. It would defeat our chances of detecting the thief.”
“I’ll be careful. Do you want to say anything more, uncle?”
“No. By the way, where were you going this evening?”
“I was going to meet a friend, and perhaps go to the theater. You couldn’t lend me a dollar, could you, Uncle James?”
“Yes, I could, but you are not quite able to pay for your own pleasures. It costs all my salary to live, and its going to be worse next year, for I shall have to pay a higher rent.”
“When I have my pay raised, I can get along better.”
“If Ropes loses his place, you will probably step into it.”
“Then I hope he’ll go, and that soon.”
When Jasper passed through the front door and stood on the sidewalk, he breathed a sigh of relief.
“So, they are on to us,” he said to himself. “But how was it found out? That’s what I’d like to know. I have been very careful. I must see Carton at once.”
A short walk took him to a billiard room not far from Broadway. A young man of twenty five, with a slight mustache, and a thin, dark face, was selecting a cue.
“Ah, Jasper!” he said. “Come at last. Let us have a game of pool.”
“Not just yet. Come outide. I want to speak to you.”
Jasper looked serious, and Philip Carton, observing it, made no remonstrance, but taking his hat, followed him out.
“Well, what is it?” he asked.
“Something serious. It is discovered at the store that goods are missing.”
“You don’t mean it? Are we suspected?”
“No one is suspected—yet.”
“But how do you know?”
“My uncle spoke to me about it this evening—just after supper.”
“He doesn’t think you are in it.”
“No.”
“How did he find out?”
“Through the boss. Goodnow spoke to him about it today.”
“But how should Goodnow know anything about it?”
“That no one can tell but himself. He asked Uncle James to watch the clerks, and see if he could fasten the theft on any of them.”
“That is pleasant for us. It is well we are informed so that we can be on our guard. I am afraid our game is up.”
“For the present at any rate we must suspend operations. Now, have you some money for me?”
“Well, a little.”
“A little? Why there are two cloaks and a silk dress pattern to be accounted for.”
“True, but I have to be very careful. I have to submit to a big discount for the parties I sell to undoubtedly suspect that the articles are stolen.”
“Wouldn’t it be better to pawn them?”
“It would be more dangerous. Besides you know how liberal pawnbrokers are. I’ll tell you what would be better. If I had a sufficient number of articles to warrant it, I could take them on to Boston or Philadelphia, and there would be less risk selling them there.”
“That is true. I wish we had thought of that before. Now we shall have to give up the business for a time. How much money have you got for me?”
“Seven dollars.”
“Seven dollars!” exclaimed Jasper in disgust. “Why, that is ridiculous. The articles must have been worth at retail a hundred dollars.”
“Perhaps so, but I only got fourteen for them. If you think you can do any better you may sell them yourself next time.”
“I thought I should assuredly get fifteen dollars out of it,” said Jasper, looking deeply disappointed. “I had a use for the money too.”
“Very likely. So had I.”
“Well, I suppose I must make it do. Listen and I will tell you how I think I can turn this thing to my advantage.”
“Go ahead!”
CHAPTER XII
WHAT WAS FOUND IN RODNEY’S ROOM
“There is a boy who stands between me and promotion,” continued Jasper, speaking in a low tone.
“The boy you mentioned the other day?”
“Yes, Rodney Ropes. Mr. Goodnow got him from I don’t know where, and has taken a ridiculous fancy to him. He has been put over my head and his pay raised, though I have been in the store longer than he. My idea is to connect him with the thefts and get him discharged.”
“Do you mean that we are to make him a confederate?”
“No,” answered Jasper impatiently. “He would be just the fellow to peach and get us all into trouble.”
“Then what do you mean?”
“To direct suspicion towards him. We won’t do it immediately, but within a week or two. It would do me good to have him turned out of the store.”
Jasper proceeded to explain his idea more fully, and his companion pronounced it very clever.
Meanwhile Rodney, not suspecting the conspiracy to deprive him of his place and his good name, worked zealously, encouraged by his promotion, and resolved to make a place for himself which should insure him a permanent connection with the firm.
Ten days passed, and Mr. Redwood again received a summons from the office.
Entering, he found Mr. Goodnow with a letter in his hand.
“Well, Mr. Redwood,” he began, “have you got any clew to the party who has stolen our goods?”
“No, sir.”
“Has any thing been taken since I spoke with you on the subject?”
“Not that I am aware of.”
“Has any one of the clerks attracted your attention by suspicious conduct?”
“No, sir,” answered Redwood, puzzled.
“Humph! Cast your eye over this letter.”
James Redwood took the letter, which was written in a fine hand, and read as follow:
MR. GOODNOW:
DEAR SIR,—I don’t know whether you are aware that articles have been taken from your stock, say, ladies’ cloaks and silk dress patterns, and disposed of outside. I will not tell you how it has come to my knowledge, for I do not want to get any one’s ill will, but I will say, to begin with, that they were taken by one of your employees, and the one, perhaps, that you would least suspect, for I am told that he is a favorite of yours. I may as well say that it is Rodney Ropes. I live near him, and last evening I saw him carry a bundle to his room when he went back from the store. I think if you would send round today when he is out, you would find in his room one or more of the stolen articles. I don’t want to get him into trouble, but I don’t like to see you robbed, and so I tell you what I know. A FRIEND.