Try and Trust; Or, Abner Holden's Bound Boy, Jr. Horatio Alger [me reader .TXT] 📗
- Author: Jr. Horatio Alger
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TRY AND TRUST Or, Abner Holden's Bound Boy
Rahway, N.J., New York
A. FLORIAN HENRIQUES (BOISIE),
THIS VOLUME IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I -- AROUND THE BREAKFAST TABLE
CHAPTER II -- INTRODUCING THE HERO
CHAPTER III -- A COLLISION
CHAPTER IV -- A DISAGREEABLE SURPRISE
CHAPTER V -- THE ENVELOPE
CHAPTER VI -- ON THE WAY
CHAPTER VII -- A NEW HOME
CHAPTER VIII -- THE GHOST IN THE ATTIC
CHAPTER IX -- EXPOSING A FRAUD
CHAPTER X -- THE CLOUDS GATHER
CHAPTER XI -- A CRISIS
CHAPTER XII -- RALPH THE RANGER
CHAPTER XIII -- A MOMENT OF PERIL
CHAPTER XIV -- TAKEN PRISONER
CHAPTER XV -- A FOUR-FOOTED FOE
CHAPTER XVI -- JUST TOO LATE
CHAPTER XVII -- NEW ACQUAINTANCES
CHAPTER XVIII -- A YOUNG ARISTOCRAT
CHAPTER XIX -- A SUSPICIOUS CHARACTER
CHAPTER XX -- FACING A BURGLAR
CHAPTER XXI -- HERBERT'S REWARD
CHAPTER XXII -- ROBBED IN THE NIGHT
CHAPTER XXIII -- A BUSINESS CALL
CHAPTER XXIV -- FINDING A BOARDING PLACE
CHAPTER XXV -- GETTING A SITUATION
CHAPTER XXVI -- A FAMILY COUNCIL
CHAPTER XXVII -- AT THE CONCERT
CHAPTER XXVIII -- PETER GREENLEAF AGAIN
CHAPTER XXIX -- SPARRING
CHAPTER XXX -- AN UNEXPECTED BLOW
CHAPTER XXXI -- MR. STANTON IS SURPRISED
CHAPTER XXXII -- RISEN FROM THE DEAD
CHAPTER XXXIII -- A FRIEND IN NEED
CHAPTER XXXIV -- CONCLUSION
CHAPTER I AROUND THE BREAKFAST TABLE
“Well, wife,” said Mr. Benjamin Stanton, as he sat down to a late breakfast, “I had a letter from Ohio yesterday.”
“From Ohio? Who should write you from Ohio? Anyone I know?”
“My sister, Margaret, you remember, moved out there with her husband ten years ago.”
“Oh, it's from her, is it?” said Mrs. Stanton, indifferently.
“No,” said her husband with momentary gravity. “It's from a Dr. Kent, who attended her in her last illness. Margaret is dead!”
“Dear me!” returned Mrs. Stanton, uncomfortably; “and I am just out of mourning for my aunt. Do you think it will be necessary for us to go into mourning for your sister?”
“No, I think not,” said her husband. “Margaret has lived away from us so long, and people won't know that we have had a death in the family unless we mention it.”
“Was that all the letter said—about the death, I mean?”
“Why, no,” said Mr. Stanton, with a little frown. “It seems Margaret left a child—a boy of fourteen; and, as she left no property, the doctor suggests that I should send for the boy and assume the care of him.”
“Upon my word!” said Mrs. Stanton; “you will find yourself in business if you undertake to provide for all the beggars' brats that apply to you for assistance.”
“You must remember that you are speaking of my sister's child,” said Mr. Stanton, who, cold and selfish and worldly as he was, had some touch of decency about him, and did not relish the term “beggars' brats,” as applied to one so nearly related to him.
“Well, call him what you like,” said his wife; “only don't be so foolish as to go spending your money on him when our children need all we have. There's Maria needs a new dress immediately. She says all the girls at Signor Madalini's dancing academy dress elegantly, and she's positively ashamed to appear in any of her present dresses.”
“How much will it cost?” asked Mr. Stanton, opening his pocketbook.
“You may hand me seventy-five dollars. I think I can make that do.”
Without a word of remonstrance, the money was placed in her hand.
“I want some money, too,” said Tom Stanton, who had just disposed of a very hearty meal.
“What do you want it for, Tom?”
“Oh, some of the fellows are getting up a club. It's going to be a select affair, and of course each of us has got to contribute some money. You see, we are going to hire a room, furnish it nicely with a carpet, black walnut furniture, and so on, and that'll cost something.”
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