Читать книгу Two Ways of Becoming a Hunter - Castlemon Harry - Страница 5

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"Preston, as soon as you get those goods tied up, Mr. Smith wants to see you in the office."

The speaker was Mr. Anderson, junior partner of the firm of Smith & Anderson, the leading grocery and dry goods merchants of Eaton, and the person addressed was one of the clerks, who was engaged in putting up some groceries that had just been ordered by a customer.

He was a sturdy, handsome boy of sixteen years of age, and until within a few days had been one of the most cheerful, light-hearted fellows about the store; but he had changed wonderfully of late, and the expression of melancholy his face always wore deepened as the junior partner leaned over the counter and whispered these words into his ear.

"Very good, sir," he replied. "It has come at last," he added to himself, as the junior partner walked away. "I can't say I am surprised, for I have been expecting it. It is all up with me now. I don't care for myself, but what will become of mother?"

The clerk's hands trembled as he went on tying up the groceries; and when the last article the order-book called for had been weighed out, and all the bundles had been placed on one end of the counter and marked with the owner's name, so that the man who drove the delivery wagon would know where to take them, he called all his courage to his aid and walked into the office, the door of which was open.

As he entered, a gray-headed, hard-featured man, who was sitting on a high stool in front of the desk, turned and looked at him over his spectacles.

"Mr. Anderson says you want to see me, sir," said the clerk.

"Yes; I sent for you," replied the gray-headed man. "There is the money we owe you—fifteen dollars. We shall not need your services any longer."

"Am I discharged, sir?" asked the boy, as he took the bills that were handed him.

"Yes. Times are hard and trade dull, as you know, and we must begin to cut down our expenses. You are the youngest clerk in the store, and so you must go first."

"May I ask you for a letter of recommendation, to assist me in obtaining another situation?" asked the clerk.

"I am sorry you ask me for it, Oscar, for I can't consistently give it to you," replied Mr. Smith.

The boy seemed to be utterly confounded. His face grew pale and red by turns, and as soon as he could speak, he said, with more spirit than his employer had ever seen him exhibit before:

"Then you may as well acknowledge that your plan of cutting down expenses is merely a subterfuge. I know why I am dismissed, and I think you ought not to hold me responsible for my brother's rascality nor punish me for it. I regret it more than you possibly can, but I am in no way to blame for it."

"We'll not argue the matter," answered Mr. Smith, turning to his desk and picking up his pen. "All I have to say to you, is that we do not need you any longer."

"And all I have to say to you, sir, is good-day!" returned the clerk.

He took his cap from the rack behind the door, walked out of the store like one in a dream, and turned down the street. He went on by the hotel, crossed the long bridge that spanned the creek, and hurried along the road as if he were trying to leave behind him all recollection of the scene through which he had just passed.

"I can't go home yet," he kept saying to himself. "I haven't the heart to tell mother that I have lost my situation, for she has had so much trouble already that it is a wonder how she bears up under it as well as she does."

For two hours Oscar tore along the road as if he were walking a match against time, but, fast as he went, his gloomy thoughts kept pace with him. The wind came down keen and strong from the hills, stripping the withered leaves in showers from the shade-trees on either side of the road, and causing the boy's hands and face to turn to a deep purple; but he never knew it. He was so completely wrapped up in his troubles that he did not see any of the teams that passed him, nor did he hear a single one of the invitations to ride that were shouted at him by the kind-hearted farmers.

He could think of nothing but Mr. Smith's refusal to assist him in obtaining another situation, and he was only brought to his senses at last by the measured strokes of the town clock, which came faintly to his ears, followed almost immediately by the shrill whistle of the lock-shop.

Then the boy stopped, and looked about him. He was standing on the summit of one of the highest hills, and the village of Eaton could be dimly seen in the distance.

"It's twelve o'clock," said he to himself. "I had no idea it was so late. Now I'll go home. I must go some time, and I might as well go now as an hour later. Besides, mother will be uneasy if I am not there in time for dinner. Let's look this matter squarely in the face, and see what is to be done about it."

Oscar had just found out that he was completely chilled through. He buttoned his coat, pulled his collar up around his ears, thrust his hands deep into his pockets, and set out to retrace his steps to the village.

Oscar Preston could remember the day when he was as popular among the boys of his native town as his father, during his life-time, had been among them. Mr. Preston had been a contractor and builder, and was at one time thought to be well off in the world. He owned the house in which he lived, and had a small balance at the banker's; but one day he fell off the very church whose bell had just aroused Oscar from his reverie, receiving injuries which confined him to his bed for more than a year, and finally resulted in his death.

During his long illness his savings rapidly dwindled away, and at last he found it necessary to mortgage his home in order to obtain money to support his family and pay his heavy doctors' bills.

At the time this happened, Oscar was a student at the high school, and his older brother, Tom, was cashier and book-keeper in Smith & Anderson's store. His salary was small, but still he might have saved something to assist his father in his extremity if he had been so inclined. Tom, however, was wholly devoted to himself, and cared for nothing but his own pleasure.

He thought more of horses and good clothes than he did of anything else, and his money, as fast as he earned it, went into the pockets of the tailor and the proprietor of the livery stable.

Oscar was the only one who could be depended on, and he was prompt to do what he could. He left school, and, through the influence of friends, obtained a situation as clerk in the same store in which his brother was employed. He worked faithfully, and every dollar of the pittance he earned was placed in his mother's hands; he never spent a cent of it for himself.

Mr. Preston's death was a severe blow to Oscar's mother; but she had another hard trial in store for her. In less than six months after he died Tom suddenly disappeared, taking with him three thousand dollars that did not belong to him. He had now been gone two weeks, and his employers had just completed the work of examining his accounts.

During these two weeks a great change had taken place in Oscar. He noticed that a good many of the village people, who had had a smile or a nod for him in happier days, never noticed him now. One or two of the clerks in the store would hardly speak to him, and at last his employers had discharged him because they were unwilling to allow any of their money to pass through his hands. This was the worst part of the whole miserable business.

Oscar had never told his mother how he was shunned by some of his former friends, for she had trouble enough of her own to bear; but this was something he could not keep from her.

"Mr. Smith has been down on me ever since Tom ran away," said Oscar to himself, after he had thought the matter over. "I have seen it plainly enough; and, if I could only step into another situation somewhere, I should be glad to leave him. But when I ask a man for work, and he wants to know why I was discharged, what shall I say? That's what hurts me."

"Here you are, Oscar!" exclaimed a cheery voice, breaking in upon his meditations. "It is easier riding than walking. Jump in."

An elegant top-buggy, drawn by a stylish, high-stepping horse, dashed up beside the boy, and the gentleman who was driving drew his reins with one hand, while with the other he threw back the heavy lap-robe so that the boy could get in. It was Mr. Parker—Leon's father.

"I am obliged to you, but I believe I would rather walk," was Oscar's reply.

"But I am not going to let you walk," said the gentleman, almost sternly. "Jump in here."

Oscar was forced to smile in spite of himself; but it was a sickly smile, that did not fail to attract the lawyer's attention.

"Now, then," he continued, after the boy had seated himself by his side and tucked the lap-robe about him, "what brought you so far into the country this cold day, without your overcoat? and what is the matter with you? You look as though you had lost your best friend."

"And so I have, Mr. Parker," replied Oscar sadly. "Mr. Smith gave me my walking-papers this morning."

"He did?" exclaimed the lawyer, opening his eyes. "What reason did he give?"

"He says he is going to reduce expenses because times are so hard," answered Oscar. "But I know that there is something back of that, for he wouldn't give me a letter of recommendation."

"He wouldn't?"

"No, sir; he wouldn't. I asked him for one, and he said he couldn't give it to me. He has looked crossways at me ever since Tom has been gone. He thinks that because my brother abused the confidence the firm placed in him, I may abuse it, too."

"Whew!" whistled the lawyer.

"My discharge could not have come at a worse time," said Oscar. "I shall have to make a payment on that mortgage before long, and how am I going to do it now that I am thrown out of employment? If there were a dozen storekeepers in town who wanted a clerk, they would not hire me under the circumstances."

Mr. Parker fastened his eyes upon the little gilt ball on the top of one of the church-spires in the distance, and made no reply.

"I have been told more than once that old Simpson is a sharper, and that I had better look out for him," continued Oscar. "He is always ready to lend money on mortgages to people who, he thinks, will never be able to repay it, and as soon as it becomes due, he forecloses and sells them out of house and home. He owns a dozen farms about the village, and he has got them all in that way. When father died, he told two or three men in town that he would own our house some day. It is worth four thousand dollars, with the lot on which it stands, and the mortgage is only five hundred."

The lawyer kept his gaze directed toward the distant spire, and said not a word until he drove into the village and reached the street in which Oscar lived. Then he drew up beside the curbstone, and as the boy was about to get out of the carriage, he laid his hand upon his shoulder and said impressively:

"Remember this, Oscar: Heaven always helps those who help themselves. Don't give up."

"Oh, I'll never give up!" was the quick reply. "There must be something in this town for me to do, and if there is, I'll find it before I sleep soundly. I hope you will believe me, Mr. Parker, when I assure you that I have not done one single thing since I have been in that store that I am unwilling my mother should know."

"I do believe you, Oscar," said the lawyer encouragingly. "I have all faith in you. Mr. Smith may find out one of these days that he has made a great mistake. Keep up a good heart, and you will come out all right in the end."

The accents of kindness touched the boy's heart. His eyes filled with tears, and, without stopping to thank the lawyer for his words of cheer, he turned about and hurried toward home, while Mr. Parker reined his horse away from the curbstone and drove on down the street.

He stopped in front of Smith & Anderson's store, and made his way into the office, where he found the senior partner seated on his high stool, busy with his books. The two men exchanged greetings, made a few remarks concerning the weather, and then Mr. Parker told the grocer why he had come there.

"I understand that you paid Oscar Preston off this morning," said he. "Now, I am somewhat interested in that boy, for it was through my influence that he obtained a place in your store, and I'd like to know what is the matter with him. What is he guilty of?"

"We haven't been able to fasten any guilt upon him," answered Mr. Smith. "We only suspect him."

"Of what?" asked the visitor.

"Now see here, Mr. Parker," exclaimed the grocer, "suppose you had a clerk working for you for twenty dollars a month, out of which he was obliged to support his mother and pay taxes on a property worth four or five thousand dollars, and that clerk should come to your office every day dressed in better clothes than you wear, and looking as though he had just come out of some lady's band-box, what would you think?"

"Oho!" cried the lawyer. "Because Oscar takes pains to keep himself as neat as a new pin, you suspect him of till-tapping, do you? I can set your fears on that score at rest. In the first place, his mother makes all his clothes, and the boy has no tailor's bills to pay. In the next place, I have known him to make more money in a single week, in a little work-shop he's got at home, than you paid him for a month's services. He is the most expert taxidermist I ever saw. I have a case of birds in my house now for which I paid him forty dollars."

"If he is making money as fast as that, why can't he keep his hands out of my drawer?" demanded the grocer.

"Do you mean to tell me that he has been stealing?" exclaimed Mr. Parker.

"I mean to tell you that somebody has been stealing!" was the reply.

"Perhaps it was Tom. A young man who will make false entries in his books would not be above taking money out of the drawer."

"No, it wasn't Tom. We have missed money since he went away."

"I don't see how you can look into Oscar's face and think him dishonest," said Mr. Parker, who was very much surprised. "I would suspect any of your clerks before I would suspect him."

"Well, I wouldn't. They have all been with me for a number of years, and I have never seen anything wrong with them. I watch my clerks pretty closely, too."

"Then I don't suppose it would be of any use for me to ask you to take Oscar back," said the lawyer, as he rose and drew on his gloves.

"It would be of no use whatever," was the prompt and decided reply. "I can't trust him, and I don't want him to touch any more of my money. I am certain that some of it has stuck to his fingers."

"That settles the matter. But mark my words. You will one day discover that you have done that boy very great injustice. Good-day, sir!"

"If I do, I shall make him all the reparation in my power," said the grocer. "Good-day, Mr. Parker!"

The lawyer was disappointed, but he was not discouraged. He did not get into his carriage again immediately, but walked the whole length of the business portion of the street, entering several stores and calling upon some of his professional friends. He had a good word to say for the discharged clerk wherever he stopped, and the result was made apparent that very afternoon.

Meanwhile, Oscar, all unconscious of the efforts that were being put forth in his behalf, was making all haste to reach home. It was long past the dinner hour, and he knew that his mother would wonder at his absence.

She opened the door for him as he stepped upon the porch, and although he tried to smile and look as cheerful and happy as usual, she saw in a moment that there was something the matter with him.