Do and Dare — a Brave Boy's Fight for Fortune, Jr. Horatio Alger [free ebook reader .txt] 📗
- Author: Jr. Horatio Alger
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He would have liked to go to Charlestown, and ascend Bunker Hill Monument, but did not know how to go. Besides, he feared he would not get back to the Parker House at the time fixed by Mr. Melville. Still, he might be able to do it. He addressed himself to a rather sprucely dressed man of thirty-five whom he met at the door of the bank.
“I beg your pardon, sir, but can you tell me how far it is to Bunker Hill Monument?”
“About a mile and a half,” answered the stranger.
“Could I go there and get back to the Parker House before one o'clock.”
“Could you?” repeated the man, briskly. “Why, to be sure you could!”
“But I don't know the way.”
“You have only to take one of the Charlestown horse cars, and it will land you only a couple of minutes' walk from the monument.”
“Can you tell me what time it is, sir?”
“Only a little past eleven. So you have never been to Bunker Hill Monument, my lad?”
“No sir; I live in the country, forty miles away and seldom come to Boston.”
“I see, I see,” said the stranger, his eyes snapping in a very peculiar way. “Every patriotic young American ought to see the place where Warren fell.”
“I should like to if you could tell me where to take the cars.”
“Why, certainly I will,” said the other, quickly. “In fact—let me see,” and he pulled out a silver watch from his vest pocket, “I've a great mind to go over with you myself.”
“I shouldn't like to trouble you, sir,” said Herbert.
“Oh, it will be no trouble. Business isn't pressing this morning, and I haven't been over for a long time myself. If you don't object to my company, I will accompany you.”
“You are very kind,” said Herbert. “If you are quite sure that you are not inconveniencing yourself, I shall be very glad to go with you—that is, if you think I can get back to the Parker House by one o'clock.”
“I will guarantee that you do,” said the stranger, confidently. “My young friend, I am glad to see that you are particular to keep your business engagements. In a varied business experience, I have observed that it is precisely that class who are destined to win the favor of their employer and attain solid success.”
“He seems a very sensible man,” thought Herbert; “and his advice is certainly good.”
“Come this way,” said the stranger, crossing Washington Street. “Scollay's Square is close at hand, and there we shall find a Charlestown horse car.”
Of course Herbert yielded himself to the guidance of his new friend, and they walked up Court Street together.
“That,” said the stranger, pointing out a large, somber building to the left, “is the courthouse. The last time I entered it was to be present at the trial of a young man of my acquaintance who had fallen into evil courses, and, yielding to temptation, had stolen from his employer. It was a sad sight,” said the stranger, shaking his head.
“I should think it must have been,” said Herbert.
“Oh, why, why will young men yield to the seductions of pleasure?” exclaimed the stranger, feelingly.
“Was he convicted?” asked Herbert.
“Yes, and sentenced to a three years term in the State prison,” answered his companion. “It always makes me feel sad when I think of the fate of that young man.”
“I should think it would, sir.”
“I have mentioned it as a warning to one who is just beginning life,” continued the stranger. “But here is our car.”
A Charlestown car, with an outside sign, Bunker Hill, in large letters, came by, and the two got on board.
They rode down Cornhill, and presently the stranger pointed out Faneuil Hall.
“Behold the Cradle of Liberty,” he said. “Of course, you have heard of Faneuil Hall?”
“Yes, sir,” and Herbert gazed with interest at the building of which he had heard so much.
It was but a short ride to Charlestown. They got out at the foot of a steep street, at the head of which the tall, granite column which crowns the summit of Bunker Hill stood like a giant sentinel ever on guard.
CHAPTER XVI. A NEW BATTLE OF BUNKER HILL.
Just opposite the monument is a small, one-story structure, where views of the shaft may be purchased and tickets obtained.
“There is a small admission fee,” said Herbert's companion.
“How much is it?” asked our hero.
“Twenty cents.”
As Herbert thrust his hand into his pocket for the necessary money, his companion said:
“You had better let me pay for both tickets.”
Though he said this, he didn't make any motion to do so.
“No, I will pay for both,” said Herbert.
“But I really cannot permit you to pay for mine.”
And still the speaker made no movement to purchase his ticket.
Herbert settled the matter by laying half a dollar on the desk, and asking for two tickets. He began to see that, in spite of his disclaimer, his guide intended him to do so. On the whole, this didn't please him. He would rather have had his offer frankly accepted.
“I didn't mean to have you pay,” said the young man, as they passed through the door admitting them to an inner apartment, from which there was an exit into a small, inclosed yard, through which they were to reach the entrance to a spiral staircase by which the ascent was made.
Herbert did not answer, for he understood that his guide was not telling the truth, and he did not like falsehood or deceit.
They entered the monument and commenced the ascent.
“We have a tiresome ascent before us,” said the other.
“How many steps are there?” asked Herbert.
“About three hundred,” was the reply.
At different points in the ascent they came to landings where they could catch glimpses of the outward world through long, narrow, perpendicular slits in the sides of the monument.
At last they reached the top.
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