Helping Himself; Or, Grant Thornton's Ambition, Jr. Horatio Alger [most important books to read txt] 📗
- Author: Jr. Horatio Alger
Book online «Helping Himself; Or, Grant Thornton's Ambition, Jr. Horatio Alger [most important books to read txt] 📗». Author Jr. Horatio Alger
“I shan't present any bill, nor will my brother,” said the lady, smiling. “Do you think you can help him into the carriage?”
“Oh, yes, ma'am.”
Abner helped Herbert into the carriage, and then, by invitation, got in himself.
“May I drive?” he asked, eagerly.
“Yes, if you like.”
The kind lady supported with her arm Herbert's drooping head, and so they drove on for a mile, when she indicated that they were to stop in front of a large, substantial, square house, built after the New England style.
Herbert was taken out, and, after Abner helped him upstairs, into a large, square chamber, with four windows.
“What is his name?” asked the lady.
“Herbert.”
“And yours?”
“Abner.”
“He had better lie down on the bed, and, as soon as my brother comes, I will send him up.”
Herbert breathed a sigh of satisfaction, as he reclined on the comfortable bed, which was more like the one he slept in at home than the rude, straw bed which he had used when boarding with Mr. and Mrs. Barton.
Half an hour passed, and the doctor came into the room, and felt Herbert's pulse.
“The boy is tired out,” he said. “That is all. His strength has been exhausted by too severe physical effort.”
“What shall we do to bring him round?” asked his sister.
“Rest and nourishing food are all that is required.”
“Shall we keep him here? Have you any objection?”
“I should object to letting him go in his present condition. He will be a care to you, Emily.”
“I shall not mind that. We shall have to keep the other boy, too.”
“Certainly. There's room enough for both.”
When Abner was told that for a week to come they were to stay in Dr. Stone's comfortable house, his face indicated his satisfaction.
“Ef you've got any chores to do, ma'am,” he said, “I'll do 'em. I'm strong, and not afraid to work.”
“Then I will make you very useful,” said Miss Stone, smiling.
The next day, as she was sitting in Herbert's chamber, she said: “Herbert, you don't look at all like your brother.”
“Do you mean Abner, Miss Stone?” Herbert asked.
“Yes; have you any other brother?”
“Abner is not my brother at all.”
“How, then, do you happen to be traveling together?”
“Because we've both run away.”
“I am sorry to hear that. I don't approve of boys running away. Where do you live?”
“In New York.”
“In New York!” repeated Miss Stone, much surprised. “Surely, you have not walked from there?”
“No, Miss Stone; I was stolen from my home in New York about a month ago, and left at Abner's house. It was a poor cabin, and very different from anything I was accustomed to. I did not like Mr. and Mrs. Barton; but Abner was always kind to me.”
“Is your father living?” asked Miss Stone, who had become interested.
“Yes; he is a broker.”
“And no doubt you have a nice home?”
“Yes, very nice. It is a brownstone house uptown. I wonder whether I shall ever see it again?”
“Surely you will. I am surprised that you have not written to tell your father where you are. He must be feeling very anxious about you.”
“I did write, asking him to send me money to come home. Abner was going with me. But no answer came to my letter.”
“That is strange. Your father can't have received the letter.”
“So I think, Miss Stone; but I directed it all right.”
“Do you think any one would intercept it?”
“Mrs. Estabrook might,” said Herbert, after a pause for consideration.
“Who is she?”
“The housekeeper.”
“What makes you think so? Didn't she like you?”
“No; besides, it was her nephew who carried me off.”
Miss Stone asked further questions, and Herbert told her all the particulars with which the reader is already acquainted. When he had finished, she said: “My advice is, that you write to your boy friend, Grant Thornton, or tell me what to write, and I will write to him. His letters will not be likely to be tampered with.”
“I think that will be a good idea,” said Herbert; “Grant will tell papa, and then he'll send for me.”
Miss Stone brought her desk to the bedside, and wrote a letter to Grant at Herbert's dictation. This letter she sent to the village postoffice immediately by Abner.
CHAPTER XXXVI — GRANT RECEIVES A LETTER
Mr. Reynolds had spared no expense in his efforts to obtain tidings of his lost boy. None of his agents, however, had succeeded in gaining the smallest clew to Herbert's whereabouts. Through the public press the story had been widely disseminated, and in consequence the broker began to receive letters from various points, from persons professing to have seen such a boy as the one described. One of these letters came from Augusta, Ga., and impressed Mr. Reynolds to such an extent that he decided to go there in person, and see for himself the boy of whom his correspondent wrote.
The day after he started Grant, on approaching the house at the close of business, fell in with the postman, just ascending the steps.
“Have you got a letter for me?” he asked.
“I have a letter for Grant Thornton,” was the reply.
“That is my name,” said Grant.
He took the letter, supposing it to be from home. He was surprised to find that it had a Western postmark. He was more puzzled by the feminine handwriting.
“Have you heard anything from the
Comments (0)