The Cash Boy, Jr. Horatio Alger [fantasy books to read .TXT] 📗
- Author: Jr. Horatio Alger
Book online «The Cash Boy, Jr. Horatio Alger [fantasy books to read .TXT] 📗». Author Jr. Horatio Alger
“RUTH FOWLER.”
Frank, following the instructions of the letter, found the gold pieces and put them carefully into his pocketbook. He did not mention the letter to Grace at present, for he knew not but Deacon Pinkerton might lay claim to the money to satisfy his debt if he knew it.
“I am ready, Frank,” said Grace, entering the room. “Shall we go?”
“Yes, Grace. There is no use in stopping here any longer.”
As he spoke he heard the outer door open, and a minute later Deacon Pinkerton entered the room.
None of the deacon’s pompousness was abated as he entered the house and the room.
“Will you take a seat?” said our hero, with the air of master of the house.
“I intended to,” said the deacon, not acknowledging his claim. “So your poor mother is gone?”
“Yes, sir,” said Frank, briefly.
“We must all die,” said the deacon, feeling that it was incumbent on him to say something religious. “Ahem! your mother died poor? She left no property?”
“It was not her fault.”
“Of course not. Did she mention that I had advanced her money on the furniture?”
“My mother told me all about it, sir.”
“Ahem! You are in a sad condition. But you will be taken care of. You ought to be thankful that there is a home provided for those who have no means.”
“What home do you refer to, Deacon Pinkerton?” asked Frank, looking steadily in the face of his visitor.
“I mean the poorhouse, which the town generously provides for those who cannot support themselves.”
This was the first intimation Grace had received of the possibility that they would be sent to such a home, and it frightened her.
“Oh, Frank!” she exclaimed, “must we go to the poorhouse?”
“No, Grace; don’t be frightened,” said Frank, soothingly. “We will not go.”
“Frank Fowler,” said the deacon, sternly, “cease to mislead your sister.”
“I am not misleading her, sir.”
“Did you not tell her that she would not be obliged to go to the poorhouse?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then what do you mean by resisting my authority?”
“You have no authority over us. We are not paupers,” and Frank lifted his head proudly, and looked steadily in the face of the deacon.
“You are paupers, whether you admit it or not.”
“We are not,” said the boy, indignantly.
“Where is your money? Where is your property?”
“Here, sir,” said our hero, holding out his hands.
“I have two strong hands, and they will help me make a living for my sister and myself.”
“May I ask whether you expect to live here and use my furniture?”
“I do not intend to, sir. I shall ask no favors of you, neither for Grace nor myself. I am going to leave the house. I only came back to get a few clothes. Mr. Pomeroy has invited Grace and me to stay at his house for a few days. I haven’t decided what I shall do afterward.”
“You will have to go to the poorhouse, then. I have no objection to your making this visit first. It will be a saving to the town.”
“Then, sir, we will bid you good-day. Grace, let us go.”
CHAPTER V A LITTLE MISUNDERSTANDING
“Have you carried Frank Fowler to the poorhouse?” asked Tom Pinkerton, eagerly, on his father’s return.
“No,” said the deacon, “he is going to make a visit at Mr. Pomeroy’s first.”
“I shouldn’t think you would have let him make a visit,” said Tom, discontentedly. “I should think you would have taken him to the poorhouse right off.”
“I feel it my duty to save the town unnecessary expense,” said Deacon Pinkerton.
So Tom was compelled to rest satisfied with his father’s assurance that the removal was only deferred.
Meanwhile Frank and Grace received a cordial welcome at the house of Mr. Pomeroy. Sam and Frank were intimate friends, and our hero had been in the habit of calling frequently, and it seemed homelike.
“I wish you could stay with us all the time, Frank—you and Grace,” said Sam one evening.
“We should all like it,” said Mr. Pomeroy, “but we cannot always have what we want. If I had it in my power to offer Frank any employment which it would be worth his while to follow, it might do. But he has got his way to make in the world. Have you formed any plans yet, Frank?”
“That is what I want to consult you about, Mr. Pomeroy.”
“I will give you the best advice I can, Frank. I suppose you do not mean to stay in the village.”
“No, sir. There is nothing for me to do here. I must go somewhere where I can make a living for Grace and myself.”
“You’ve got a hard row to hoe, Frank,” said Mr. Pomeroy, thoughtfully. “Have you decided where to go?”
“Yes, sir. I shall go to New York.”
“What! To the city?”
“Yes, sir. I’ll get something to do, no matter what it is.”
“But how are you going to live in the meantime?”
“I’ve got a little money.”
“That won’t last long.”
“I know it, but I shall soon get work, if it is only to black boots in the streets.”
“With that spirit, Frank, you will stand a fair chance to succeed. What do you mean to do with Grace?”
“I will take her with me.”
“I can think of a better plan. Leave her here till you have found something to do. Then send for her.”
“But if I leave her here Deacon Pinkerton will
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