The Telegraph Boy, Jr. Horatio Alger [books on motivation .txt] 📗

know. We now come to the trunk, which, some time after its reception, Frank set about examining.

He found it was filled with clothing belonging to his father. Though a part were in good condition it seemed doubtful whether they would be of much service to him. It occurred to him to examine the pockets of the coats. In one he found a common yellow envelope, bearing his father's name. Opening it, he found, to his great astonishment, that it was a certificate of railroad stock, setting forth his father's ownership of one hundred shares of the capital stock of the said railway.

Our hero was greatly excited by his discovery. This, then, was the form in which his father had invested his savings. What the shares were worth he had no idea; but he rejoiced chiefly because now he could defend his father from the charge of recklessly spending his entire income, and saving nothing. He resolved, as soon as he could find time, to visit a Wall-street broker, by whom he had occasionally been employed, and inquire the value of the stock. Two days afterwards the opportunity came, and he availed himself of it at once.

"Can you tell me the value of these shares, Mr. Glynn?" he asked.

"They are quoted to-day at one hundred and ten," answered the broker, referring to a list of the day's stock quotations.

"Do you mean that each share is worth a hundred and ten dollars?" asked Frank, in excitement.

"Certainly."

"Then the whole are worth five thousand five hundred dollars?"

"Rather more; for the last semi-annual dividend has not been collected. To whom do they belong?"

"They did belong to my father. Now I suppose they are mine."

"Has your father's estate been administered upon?"

"Yes; but these shares had not then been found."

"Then some legal steps will be necessary before you can take possession, and dispose of them. I will give you the address of a good lawyer, and advise you to consult him at once."

Frank did so, and the lawyer wrote to Uncle Pelatiah to acquaint him with the discovery. The news created great excitement at the farm.

"Why, Frank's a rich boy!" ejaculated Aunt Hannah.

"And my brother wasn't so foolishly extravagant as we supposed."

"That may be; but with his salary we could have saved more."

"Perhaps we might; but these shares are worth almost six thousand dollars. That's a good deal of money, Hannah."

"So it is, Pelatiah. I'll tell you what we'd better do."

"What?"

"Invite Frank to come back and board with us. He can afford to pay handsome board, and it seems better that the money should go to us than a stranger."

"Just so, Hannah. He could board with us, and go to school."

"You'd better write and invite him to come. I allus liked the boy, and if we could have afforded it, I'd have been in favor of keepin' him for nothing."

"So would I," said his uncle; and he probably believed it, though after what had happened it will be rather difficult for the reader to credit it.

The letter was written, but Frank had no desire to return to the old farm, and the society of his uncle's family.

"I have got used to the city," he wrote, "and have made a good many friends here. I don't know yet whether I shall take a business position, or go to school; but, if the latter, the schools here are better than in the country. I hope to come and see you before long; but, I would prefer to live in New York."

"He's gettin' uppish," said Aunt Hannah, who was considerably disappointed, for she had made up her mind just how much they could venture to charge for board, and how this would increase their annual savings.

"I suppose it's natural for a boy to prefer the city," said his uncle.

"If the boy has a chance to handle his money there won't be much of it left by the time he's twenty-one," said Aunt Hannah. "You ought to be his guardian."

"He has the right to choose his own guardian," said Uncle Pelatiah. "He'll take some city man likely."

Frank did, in fact, select the lawyer, having learned that he was a man of high reputation for integrity. He offered it to Mr. Bowen; but that gentleman, while congratulating his young friend upon his greatly improved prospects, said that he was a man of books rather than of business, and would prefer that some other person be selected.

The next thing was to resign his place as telegraph boy.

"We are sorry to lose you," said the superintendent. "Your are one of our best boys. Do you wish to go at once?"

"No, sir; I will stay till the end of the month."

"Very well. We shall be glad to have you."

Three weeks yet remained till the close of the month. It was not long, but before the time had passed Frank found himself in a very unpleasant predicament, from no fault of his own, but in consequence of the enmity of the clerk whom he had been instrumental in displacing.

CHAPTER XXVI. A TRAP, AND WHO FELL INTO IT.

No one rejoiced more sincerely at Frank's good luck than Mrs. Vivian. Her interest in our hero had increased, and while at first she regarded herself as his patroness she had come now to look upon him as a member of the family. Fred had already returned, and Frank, bearing in mind that he had only been invited to remain during his absence, proposed to find another home, but Mrs. Vivian would not hear of it.

"No," she said, "Fred needs a young companion, and I prefer you to any one I know of."

As Fred was of his mother's opinion, Frank readily agreed to stay. He occupied a room adjoining the one assigned to Fred, and during his hours of leisure the two were constantly together.

"I shall be glad when you leave the telegraph office," said Fred. "Then we can be together more."

"You may get tired of me."

"If I do I will let you know."

Two days afterwards Frank was riding down town in a Sixth-avenue car. Until he had taken his seat he was not aware that James Haynes was a passenger. When a lady who sat between them got out, Haynes moved up, so as to sit next to our hero.

"I see you are still in the telegraph service," he said.

"Yes, sir," answered Frank, briefly.

"I wonder Mr. Hartley didn't offer you a permanent position in his employ," said Haynes, with a sneer. "Spies are useful sometimes."

"He may give me a position sometime," said Frank, not regarding the sneer.

"You earned it," said Haynes, unpleasantly.

"Thank you," said Frank, knowing that Haynes would be provoked by his appearing to accept the compliment in good faith.

Haynes scowled, but said no more. He drew a morning paper from his pocket, and appeared to be absorbed in reading it.

At Canal street Frank rose to leave the car. He had not yet reached the door, when Haynes sprang to his feet, followed him quickly, and, grasping him by the arm, said, "Not so fast young man! Give me back my pocket-book."

Frank was struck with amazement.

"What do you mean?" he asked, indignantly.

"I mean that you have relieved me of my pocket-book. Gentlemen," turning to his fellow-passengers, "I demand that this boy be searched."

"You can search me if you like," said Frank. "You know very well that your accusation is false."

"I shall be satisfied if you produce what is in your pockets."

"That's fair," said a passenger.

Our hero thrust his hand into his pocket. To his dismay he drew out a Russia-leather pocket-book, of which he knew nothing.

"That is my pocket-book, gentlemen," said Haynes, triumphantly. "I can tell you exactly what is in it. You will find two five-dollar bills, a two and a one. Be kind enough to examine it, sir."

The pocket-book was examined, and, of course, Haynes was correct.

Suspicious glances were directed at poor Frank. Innocent as he was, he was so overwhelmed by the suddenness of the charge, and the apparent proof of it, that he looked confused and embarrassed.

"You are beginning early, my boy," said a tall gentleman, in a white cravat,—a clergyman. "It is well that you are checked in the beginning of a guilty career."

"Sir," said Frank, "I am as innocent as you are. This man is my enemy, and he must have put the pocket-book in my pocket. He threatened some time since to get me into a scrape."

"That story is rather too thin," said Haynes, looking around him with a sneer. "You won't find any one here quite verdant enough to believe it."

"There you are mistaken," said a gentleman who was seated directly opposite to Haynes and Frank. "I believe it."

Haynes scowled at him malignantly.

"I really don't think it very important what you believe, sir. The boy is evidently a professional thief, and you may belong to the same gang for aught I know. I propose to give him in charge to the next policeman we meet."

"Do so," said the stranger, coolly. "I shall be present at his trial, and offer some important testimony."

"Indeed!" said Haynes, uneasily. "May I ask what it is?"

"Certainly. I saw you thrust the wallet into the boy's pocket! Of that I am willing to make oath."

James Haynes turned pale. There was a sudden change in public opinion. It was he who now had become an object of suspicion.

"Young man," said the clergyman, solemnly, "what could have induced you to enter into such a wicked conspiracy against the poor boy?"

"Mind your own business!" said Haynes, rudely. "It is a lie."

"It is the truth," said the volunteer witness, calmly.

Here a policeman became visible from the car-window, leisurely walking his beat on the western sidewalk.

"There's a policeman," said Frank's new friend. "Call him, and have the boy arrested."

"He would be cleared by false testimony," said Haynes, sullenly. "I have my money back, and will let him go."

"Then," said the stranger, rising, and displaying the badge of a detective, "I shall arrest you on a charge of conspiracy."

Haynes was fairly caught in his own trap.

"This is a put-up job, gentlemen," he said. "Am I to be robbed first, and arrested afterwards for exposing the thief?"

He looked about him appealingly; but in vain. Public sentiment was wholly against him now.

"O you ould villain!" said a stout Irish woman, "to try to ruin the poor b'ye. Hangin's too good for you."

This was rather an extreme sentiment; but Haynes saw that he was in peril. He gave an unexpected spring, and, reaching the platform, sprang out, running up a side street.

"Do you know him?" asked the detective of Frank.

"Yes, sir."

"How do you account for his hostility to you?"

Frank briefly recounted the story already known to the reader.

"He can easily be found then."

"I hope you will not arrest him, sir," said Frank. "He has been pretty well punished already, and I don't think he will trouble me again."

"If he does, send for me," and the detective handed Frank his card and address.

"It is fortunate for me," said the telegraph boy, "that you saw him put the money in my pocket."

"You would have experienced some inconvenience; but the story you have told me would have cleared you with the jury."

"My young friend," said the clergyman, "I owe you an apology. I too hastily assumed that you were guilty."

"It looked like it, sir. You were quite justified in what you said. Mr. Haynes did not appear to relish your remarks to him," added Frank, laughing.

"His crime was greater and meaner than the one charged upon you. To steal is certainly a grave offence,—yet sometimes it is prompted by necessity; but a deliberate attempt to fasten a false charge upon a fellow-creature is vastly more atrocious."

"So it is, sir," said the old Irish woman, nodding assent vigorously. "I quite agree wid your honor. It is owtracious."

The passengers smiled at the old woman's mistake; but it was clear that they agreed with her in sentiment.

Meanwhile the car had been speeding along, and was near its terminus. Frank bethought himself that he had been carried considerably beyond his destination.

He pulled the bell, and, as he got out, he said, "Thank you all for taking my part."

"We don't quite deserve that," said one of the passengers, after Frank had left the car. "I was at first of opinion that the boy was guilty."

"We have been saved from doing a great injustice," said the clergyman. "It should be a lesson to all of us not to be too hasty in our judgments."

James Haynes in his hurried exit from the car fully believed that he would be pursued and arrested. He was relieved to find his fears groundless. But he was disappointed at the failure of his scheme. He had carefully prepared it, and for