Try and Trust; Or, Abner Holden's Bound Boy, Jr. Horatio Alger [me reader .TXT] 📗
- Author: Jr. Horatio Alger
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He was about to push by, thrusting Herbert roughly out of the way, when our hero turned, and his look summoned the policeman, who hastened to the spot.
“Give this boy his money,” he said, authoritatively. “I know all about your little game. It's up now. Unless you hand over your plunder, you must go with me.”
Greenleaf changed color, and was evidently alarmed.
“I've got nobody's money, except my own,” he said.
“Come along, then,” said the officer, taking him by the arm.
“Stop a minute,” said he, hurriedly, finding that matters had come to a crisis. “If I give up what I have, will you let me go?”
“Well, that depends on how much you have.”
“I've got twenty dollars.”
Herbert was about to say that this would do, but the policeman shook his head.
“Won't do,” said he. “Come along.”
After a little haggling, Greenleaf produced forty dollars, which Herbert pocketed, with much satisfaction.
“Now go along, and mind you don't try any more such games.”
Greenleaf needed no second permission to be gone. He feared that the officer might change his mind, and he might, after all, be consigned to the station house.
“Thank you,” said Herbert, gratefully. “I needed the money badly. I shouldn't have recovered it but for you.”
“Take better care of it next time,” said the officer, not unkindly. “Take care not to trust a stranger too easily. Better take my advice, and put it in a savings bank.”
“I shall be obliged to use most of it,” said Herbert. “What I don't need, I will put in the bank.”
The recovery of so much of his lost money seemed to Herbert quite a lucky windfall. He went at once to a trunk store, and, for five dollars, purchased a good, durable trunk, which he ordered sent home to his lodgings. Fifteen dollars more he invested in necessary underclothing, and this left him one-half of the money for future use. Besides this he had six dollars, which, in three weeks, he had saved from his wages. With this sum, and the articles he had purchased, he felt quite rich, and returned to the counting-room—this happened during the hour given him for dinner—in unusually good spirits. He had other reasons for encouragement. He was getting accustomed to his duties at the counting-room. Mr. Godfrey always treated him kindly, and had called upon him again that very morning to assist him in translating a French letter, complimenting him, at the same time, upon his scholarship.
“I'll do my best,” thought Herbert. “'Try and Trust,' that's my motto. I think it will bring me success.”
But even while he spoke, an unforeseen danger menaced him.
CHAPTER XXIX SPARRING
After the concert, Tom Stanton took even a greater dislike to his cousin than before. To say that he was in love with Julia Godfrey would be rather ridiculous, considering his youth. Even if he had been older, Tom cared too much about himself to fall in love with another. But Julia had been a belle among the children of her own age at the dancing school, and there was considerable rivalry among the boys—or, I should, perhaps, say young gentlemen—for the honor of her notice. Tom desired it, because it would give him a kind of distinction among his fellows. So, though he was not in love with Julia, he was jealous when she showed favor to anyone else. But this feeling was mild compared with that he experienced when Julia bestowed her notice upon his penniless cousin. That Herbert should be preferred to himself, he thought, not only showed great lack of taste on the part of the young heiress, but was a grievous wrong to himself.
“I can't understand how girls can be such fools,” thought Tom, as that evening, after returning from the concert, he surveyed his rather perturbed face in the mirror surmounting his bureau. “I wouldn't have believed Julia Godfrey would stoop to notice such a pauper.”
Then a cheerful thought came to him. Perhaps she was only trying to rouse his jealousy. He had heard of such things. But, if so, why should she choose such a beggar as Herbert to practice her arts upon?
Certainly, to an unprejudiced observer, such a thought would never have suggested itself. The cool indifference with which Julia had treated Tom did not appear to argue any such feeling as would lead to the attempt to rouse his jealousy. But, then, Tom was not an unprejudiced observer, and considered his personal attractions such that any girl might appreciate them.
When he arrived at the counting-room the next morning, he found Herbert already there. Indeed, our hero was very particular to be punctual in his attendance, while Tom was generally at least a quarter of an hour behind time.
“I saw you at the concert last evening, Mason,” said Tom, who wanted to get a chance to say something disagreeable.
“Yes, I was there,” said Herbert. “You sat in the row just behind us.”
“Yes. I suppose you were never at a concert before.”
“Not in New York.”
“Mr. Godfrey was very kind to take you.”
That was what Herbert thought himself. But as Tom expressed it, there was something in his tone which implied a conviction of Herbert's social inferiority, which our hero did not like.
“I have found Mr. Godfrey very kind,” he said, briefly.
“There are not many employers who would invite a boy in your position to a concert with his family,” said Tom.
“I believe my position is the same as yours,” said Herbert, nettled.
“I don't see it,” said Tom, haughtily. “Will you explain yourself?”
“I believe we are both in Mr. Godfrey's employ,” said Herbert.
“Oh, yes, so far as that goes. But I am the son of a rich man,” said Tom, pompously.
Herbert might have replied that he was the nephew of a rich man, but he had no disposition to boast of his relationship to his cousin's family.
“I don't see that that makes any difference,” said Herbert.
“Don't you? Well, I do.”
“We are both boys in Mr. Godfrey's employ.”
“That's true, but then, he took you out of pity, you know.”
Tom's tone as he said this was very aggravating, and Herbert's face flushed.
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