Joe the Hotel Boy; Or, Winning out by Pluck, Pluck by Jr. Horatio Alger [ereader android txt] 📗
- Author: Pluck by Jr. Horatio Alger
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“Isn't there any such mine at all?” asked Joe.
“Oh, yes, there is such a mine, but it was abandoned two years ago, after ten thousand dollars had been sunk in it. They said it paid so little that it was not worth considering.”
“That is certainly too bad for you,” said Joe. “And you can't find any trace of Caven or Malone?”
“No, both of the rascals have disappeared completely. I tried to trace Caven and his broker friend in Philadelphia but it was of no use. More than likely they have gone to some place thousands of miles away.”
“Yes, and probably this Ball, or Malone, has joined them,” put in Andrew Mallison. “Mr. Vane, I am exceedingly sorry for you.”
“I am sorry for myself, but I deserve my loss, for being such a fool,” went on the victim.
“Have you notified the police?” asked Joe.
“Oh, yes, and I have hired a private detective to do what he can, too. But I am afraid my money is gone for good.”
“You might go and reopen the mine, Mr. Vane.”
“Thank you, but I have lost enough already, without throwing good money after bad, as the saying is.”
“It may be that that detective will find the swindlers, sooner or later.”
“Such a thing is, of course, possible, but I am not over sanguine.”
“I am afraid your money is gone for good,” broke in Andrew Mallison. “I wish I could help you, but I don't see how I can.”
The matter was talked over for a good hour, and all three visited the room Malone had occupied, which had been vacant ever since. But a hunt around revealed nothing of value, and they returned to the office.
“I can do nothing more for you, Mr. Vane,” said Andrew Mallison.
“I wish I could do something,” said Joe. Something about Maurice Vane was very attractive to him.
“If you ever hear of these rascals let me know,” continued the hotel proprietor.
“I will do so,” was the reply.
With that the conversation on the subject closed. Maurice Vane remained at the hotel overnight and left by the early train on the following morning.
CHAPTER XIII.
OFF FOR THE CITY.
“Joe, our season ends next Saturday.”
“I know it, Mr. Mallison.”
“We are going to close the house on Tuesday. It won't pay to keep open after our summer boarders leave.”
“I know that, too.”
“Have you any idea what you intend to do?” went on the hotel proprietor. He was standing down by the dock watching Joe clean out one of the boats.
“I'm thinking of going to Philadelphia.”
“On a visit?”
“No, sir, to try my luck.”
“Oh, I see. It's a big city, my lad.”
“I know it, but, somehow, I feel I might do better there than in such a town as this,—and I am getting tired of hanging around the lake.”
“There is more money in Philadelphia than there is here, that is certain, Joe. But you can't always get hold of it. The big cities are crowded with people trying to obtain situations.”
“I'm sure I can find something to do, Mr. Mallison. And, by the way, when I leave, will you give me a written recommendation?”
“Certainly. You have done well since you came here. But you had better think twice before going to Philadelphia.”
“I've thought it over more than twice. I don't expect the earth, but I feel that I can get something to do before my money runs out.”
“How much money have you saved up?”
“I've got fifty-six dollars, and I'm going to sell my boat for four dollars.”
“Well, sixty dollars isn't such a bad capital. I have known men to start out with a good deal less. When I left home I had but twenty dollars and an extra suit of clothes.”
“Did you come from a country place?”
“No, I came from New York. Times were hard and I couldn't get a single thing to do. I went to Paterson, New Jersey, and got work in a silk mill. From there I went to Camden, and then to Philadelphia. From Philadelphia I came here and have been here ever since.”
“You have been prosperous.”
“Fairly so, although I don't make as much money as some of the hotel men in the big cities. But then they take larger risks. A few years ago a hotel friend of mine opened a big hotel in Atlantic City. He hoped to make a small fortune, but he was not located in the right part of the town and at the end of the season he found himself just fifteen thousand dollars out of pocket. Now he has sold out and is running a country hotel fifty miles west of here. He doesn't hope to make so much, but his business is much safer.”
“I'm afraid it will be a long time before I get money enough to run a hotel,” laughed our hero.
“Would you like to run one?”
“I don't know. I'd like to educate myself first.”
“Don't you study some now? I have seen you with some arithmetics and histories.”
“Yes, sir, I study a little every day. You see, I never had much schooling, and I don't want to grow up ignorant, if I can help it.”
“That is the proper spirit, lad,” answered Andrew Mallison, warmly. “Learn all you possibly can. It will always be the means of doing you good.”
The conversation took place on Thursday and two days later the season at the summer hotel came to an end and the last of the boarders took their departure. Monday was spent in putting things in order, and by Tuesday afternoon work around the place
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