Chester Rand; or, The New Path to Fortune, Jr. Horatio Alger [good books for high schoolers .txt] 📗

this point?” he asked.

“In the neighborhood of fifty dollars,” answered the conductor.

“Will your son be able to pay this?” asked Chester.

“Oh, yes,” answered the old man. “William has been doin’ well. He is going to build a large hotel in Tacoma—he and another man.”

“Then,” said Chester, “I will advance you what money you need. You can give me a memorandum, so that I can collect it from your son.”

“Heaven bless you, young man!” said the old man, fervently. “You are indeed a friend to me who am but a stranger. I am sure you will prosper.”

“Thank you.”

“What a fellow you are, Chester!” said Edward. “You will make yourself poor helping others.”

“I shall sleep better for having aided the old man,” answered Chester.

The rest of the journey was uneventful. The two boys went at once to Tacoma, as Chester felt that the gentlemen who were negotiating for his lots were probably in a hurry to arrange for the building of the hotel. After establishing themselves at a hotel and eating dinner, they went at once to the office of Dean & Downie, the real estate agents from whom Chester had received a letter.

Here a surprise awaited him.

Standing at a desk in the rear of the office was a figure that looked familiar. The man turned as the door opened to admit Chester, and the latter recognized to his great astonishment his old enemy—David Mullins!

CHAPTER XXXVII.

DAVID MULLINS AGAIN.

When David Mullins saw Chester enter the office he turned pale, and looked panic-stricken.

“You here!” he exclaimed, in a hollow voice.

“Yes, Mr. Mullins. I am surprised to meet you.”

“Then you didn’t know I was here?”

“I heard from Felix that you were in this part of the country.”

“I am trying to earn an honest living,” said Mullins, in agitation. “My employers know nothing to my prejudice. Do you come as a friend or an enemy?”

“Mr. Mullins, I haven’t the least intention of harming you. I will not even appear to know you. I came here to see Dean & Downie, with whom I have business.”

“Heaven be praised! I will not soon forget your kindness. Here comes Mr. Dean. Remember your promise.”

At this moment Mr. Dean entered the office. David Mullins had returned to his desk.

“This young man wishes to see you, Mr. Dean,” he said, formally, when his employer entered.

Mr. Dean looked at Chester, inquiringly.

“I am Chester Rand, with whom you have had some correspondence,” said Chester, tendering his card. “I have just arrived from New York.”

The broker regarded him in surprise.

“You Chester Rand?” he exclaimed. “Why, you are a boy.”

“I must plead guilty to that indictment,” said Chester, smiling, “but I am the owner of the lots which I understand are wanted for the new hotel.”

David Mullins, who heard this conversation, looked up in amazement. He had not known of the correspondence with Chester, as Mr. Dean had written his letter personally, and it had not gone through the office.

“Can you furnish any evidence of this?” asked Mr. Dean.

“Here is the letter you sent me, and here is a copy of my reply.”

The broker took the letter from Chester’s hand and all doubt vanished from his countenance.

“I am glad to see you here so soon, Mr. Rand,” he said, “as the parties with whom I am negotiating are anxious to conclude matters as soon as possible. Will you go over with me to Mr. Taylor’s office? Taylor and Pearson are the parties’ names.”

“I will go with pleasure.”

As they walked through the chief business street Chester noticed with interest evidences of activity everywhere. Tacoma he found was situated, like San Francisco, on a side hill, sloping down toward Puget Sound.

“What a fine location for a town,” he said.

“Yes,” answered Mr. Dean, “this is destined to be a large city. Our people are enterprising and progressive. Seattle is at present ahead of us, but we mean to catch up, and that ere many years.”

“At what price are lots selling on this street?”

“I see you have business ideas,” said the broker, smiling. “I suppose you want to know what price you can charge for your lots.”

“You are right.”

“Of course it will not be right for me to advise you, being employed by the other party, but I will give you some idea. The lot adjoining your plot sold last week for two thousand dollars.”

“Two thousand?”

“Yes.”

“Probably it would be well for me to wait a year or two, as the lots would undoubtedly command more then.”

“That is one way of looking at it. Let me point out another. You have five lots, have you not?”

“Yes, sir.”

“If you sell three to the hotel company you can hold the other two five years if you like. The proximity of the hotel will help to enhance their value.”

“I see that.”

“That is a point to be considered. If you ask a prohibitory price, the hotel will go elsewhere, and you may have to wait a good while before you have a chance to sell. But here is Mr. Taylor’s office.”

The broker entered, followed by Chester. Here a surprise awaited him.

Sitting in an armchair was his venerable friend of the train, appearing very much at home. His face lighted up when Chester came in.

“William,” he said to a stout man of middle age, “this is the young man who generously advanced money to meet my car fare when I was in danger of being put off the train.”

The younger man advanced and cordially offered his hand.

“My boy,” he said, “I shall not soon forget your kindness to my father. I will gladly repay you for the money you disbursed on his account.”

“I was very glad to stand his friend, sir,” returned Chester, modestly.

“Let me know to whom I am indebted.”

“Mr. Taylor,” said the broker, “this young gentleman is Chester Rand, owner of the lots which you wish to buy.”

“Is it possible?” ejaculated William Taylor. “I didn’t know that the owner of the lots was a boy.”

“The lots were a bequest to me from the original owner,” said Chester.

“And you have never been out this way before?”

“This is my first visit to Tacoma.”

“You are hardly old enough to be in business.”

“I am an artist; that is, I furnish illustrations to a comic weekly paper in New York.”

“You have begun life early. I suspect you are better fitted for business than most young men of your age. Here is my partner, Mr. Pearson.”

In the negotiation that followed the reader will not be interested. At length a mutually satisfactory arrangement was made. Chester agreed to sell the three lots wanted for the hotel for eight thousand dollars, half cash and the balance on a year’s time at twelve per cent. interest.

When the business was concluded and papers signed, Mr. Dean said: “Mr. Rand, I think you have made a good bargain. You might have extorted more, but you have received a fair price and retained the good will of the purchaser. What do you propose to do with the four thousand dollars you will receive in cash?”

“I have not had time to think.”

“I will venture to give you some advice. My partner, John Downie, has made a specialty of city property, and he will invest any part for you in lower-priced city lots, which are sure to advance rapidly.”

“Then I will put the matter in his hands and rely on his judgment. I will carry back with me a thousand dollars, and leave with him three thousand dollars for investment.”

“Then come back to the office and I will introduce you to Mr. Downie, with whom you can leave instructions.”

Chester was presented to Mr. Downie, a blond young man, who looked honest and reliable, and they soon came to an understanding. They walked about the town—it was not a city then—and Chester picked out several lots which he was in favor of buying.

He remained a week in Tacoma, and before the end of that time all arrangements were perfected, and he found himself the owner of seven lots, more or less eligible, in addition to the two he had reserved in the original plot.

On the evening of the second day, as he was taking a walk alone, he encountered David Mullins.

“Good-evening, Mr. Mullins,” he said, politely.

“Good-evening, Chester,” returned the bookkeeper, flushing slightly. “I want to thank you for not exposing my past misdeeds.”

“I hope, Mr. Mullins, you did not think me mean enough to do so.”

“I am sorry to say that according to my sad experience eight out of ten would have done so, especially if they had reason, like you, to complain of personal ill treatment.”

“I don’t believe in persecuting a man.”

“I wish all were of your way of thinking. Shall I tell you my experience?”

“If you will.”

“When I left New York I went to Chicago and obtained the position of collector for a mercantile establishment. I was paid a commission, and got on very well till one unlucky day I fell in with an acquaintance from New York.

“‘Where are you working?’ he asked.

“I told him.

“The next day my employer summoned me to his presence.

“‘I shall not require your services any longer,’ he said.

“I asked no questions. I understood that my treacherous friend had given me away.

“I had a few dollars saved, and went to Minneapolis. There I was undisturbed for six months. Then the same man appeared and again deprived me of my situation.”

“How contemptible!” ejaculated Chester, with a ring of scorn in his voice.

“Then I came to Tacoma, and here I have been thus far undisturbed. When I saw you I had a scare. I thought my time had come, and I must again move on.”

“So far from wishing to harm you, Mr. Mullins,” said Chester, “if, through the meanness of others you get into trouble you can any time send to me for a loan of fifty dollars.”

“Thank you,” ejaculated Mullins, gratefully, wringing Chester’s hand. “You are heaping coals of fire on my head.”

“You will always have my best wishes for your prosperity. If ever you are able, repay the money you took from Mr. Fairchild, and I will venture to promise that he will forgive you.”

“With God’s help I will!”

CHAPTER XXXVIII.

ABNER TRIMBLE’S PLOT.

Just off First Street, in Portland, Ore., is a saloon, over which appears the name of the proprietor: