Helping Himself; Or, Grant Thornton's Ambition by Jr. Horatio Alger
"When do you wish me to go, mother?"
"There can be no advantage in delay. If tomorrow is pleasant, youmay as well go then."
"Shall you tell father your plan?"
"No, Grant, it might make him feel bad to think I was compelled tomake a sacrifice, which, after all, is very little of a sacrifice tome. Years since I decided to trouble him as little as possible withmatters of business. It could do no good, and, by making himanxious, unfitted him for his professional work."
Mrs. Thornton's course may not be considered wise by some, but sheknew her husband's peculiar mental constitution, and her object atleast was praiseworthy, to screen him from undue anxiety, though itinvolved an extra share for herself.
The next morning Grant took an early breakfast, and walked brisklytoward the depot to take the first train for New York.
The fare would be a dollar and a quarter each way, for the distancewas fifty miles, and this both he and his mother felt to be a largeoutlay. If, however, he succeeded in his errand it would be wiselyspent, and this was their hope.
At the depot Grant found Tom Calder, a youth of eighteen, who hadthe reputation of being wild, and had been suspected of dishonesty.He had been employed in the city, so that Grant was not surprised tomeet him at the depot.
"Hello, Grant! Where are you bound?" he asked.
"I am going to New York."
"What for?"
"A little business," Grant answered, evasively. Tom was the lastperson he felt inclined to take into his confidence.
"Goin' to try to get a place?"
"If any good chance offers I shall accept it--that is, if father andmother are willing."
"Let's take a seat together--that's what I'm going for myself."
CHAPTER VI -- GRANT GETS INTO UNEXPECTED TROUBLE
TOM CALDER was not the companion Grant would have chosen, but thereseemed no good excuse for declining his company. He belonged to arather disreputable family living in the borders of the village. Ifthis had been all, it would not have been fair to object to him, butTom himself bore not a very high reputation. He had been suspectedmore than once of stealing from his school companions, and whenemployed for a time by Mr. Tudor, in the village store, the latterbegan to miss money from the till; but Tom was so sly that he hadbeen unable to bring the theft home to him. However, he thought itbest to dispense with his services.
"What kind of a situation are you goin' to try for?" asked Tom, whenthey were fairly on their way.
"I don't know. They say that beggars mustn't be choosers."
"I want to get into a broker's office if I can," said Tom.
"Do you consider that a very good business?" asked Grant.
"I should say so," responded Tom, emphatically.
"Do they pay high wages?"
"Not extra, but a feller can get points, and make something out ofthe market."
"What's that?" asked Grant, puzzled.
"Oh, I forgot. You ain't used to the city," responded Tom,emphatically. "I mean, you find out when a stock is going up, andyou buy for a rise."
"But doesn't that take considerable money?" asked Grant, wonderinghow Tom could raise money to buy stocks.
"Oh, you can go to the bucket shops," answered Tom.
"But what have bucket shops to do with stocks?" asked Grant, morethan ever puzzled.
Tom burst into a loud laugh.
"Ain't you jolly green, though?" he ejaculated.
Grant was rather nettled at this.
"I don't see how I could be expected to understand such talk," hesaid, with some asperity.
"That's where it is--you can't," said Tom. "It's all like A, B, C tome, and I forgot that you didn't know anything about Wall Street. Abucket shop is where you can buy stock in small lots, putting down adollar a share as margin. If stocks go up, you sell out on the rise,and get back your dollar minus commission."
"Suppose they go down?"
"Then you lose what you put up."
"Isn't it rather risky?"
"Of course there's some risk, but if you have a good point thereisn't much."
This was Tom Calder's view of the matter. As a matter of fact, thegreat majority of those who visit the bucket shops lose all they putin, and are likely sooner or later to get into difficulty; so thatmany employers will at once discharge a clerk or boy known tospeculate in this way.
"If I had any money I'd buy some stock to-day; that is, as soon as Iget to the city," continued Tom. "You couldn't lend me five dollars,could you?"
"No, I couldn't," answered Grant, shortly.
"I'd give you half the profits."
"I haven't got the money," Grant explained.
"That's a pity. The fact is, I'm rather short. However, I knowplenty of fellows in the city, and I guess I can raise a tenner orso."
"Then your credit must be better in New York than in Colebrook,"thought Grant, but he fore-bore to say so.
Grant was rather glad the little package of pearls was in the pocketfurthest away from Tom, for his opinion of his companion's honestywas not the highest.
When half an hour had passed, Tom vacated his seat.
"I'm going into the smoking car," he said, "to have a smoke. Won'tyou come with me?"
"No, thank you. I don't smoke."
"Then it's time you began. I've got a cigarette for you, if you'lltry it."
"Much obliged, but I am better off without it."
"You'll soon get over that little-boy feeling. Why, boys in the cityof half your age smoke."
"I am sorry to hear it."
"Well, ta-ta! I'll be back soon."
Grant was not sorry to have Tom leave him. He didn't enjoy hiscompany, and besides he foresaw that it would be rather embarrassingif Tom should take a fancy to remain with him in the city. He didn'tcare to have anyone, certainly not Tom, learn on what errand he hadcome to the city.
Two minutes had scarcely elapsed after Tom vacated his seat, when apleasant-looking gentleman of middle age, who had been sitting justbehind them, rose and took the seat beside Grant.
"I will sit with you if you don't object," said he.
"I should be glad of your company," said Grant, politely.
"You live in the country, I infer?"
"Yes, sir."
"I overheard your conversation with the young man who has just leftyou. I suspect you are not very much alike."
"I hope not, sir. Perhaps Tom would say the same, for he thinks megreen."
"There is such a thing as knowing too much--that isn't desirable toknow. So you don't smoke?"
"No, sir."
"I wish more boys of your age could say as much. Do I understandthat you are going to the city in search of employment?"
"That is not my chief errand," answered Grant, with some hesitation."Still, if I could hear of a good chance, I might induce my parentsto let me accept it."
"Where do you live, my young friend?"
"In Colebrook. My father is the minister there."
"That ought to be a recommendation, for it is to be supposed youhave been carefully trained. Some of our most successful businessmen have been ministers' sons."
"Are you in business in New York, sir?" asked Grant, thinking he hada right by this time to ask a question.
"Yes; here is my card."
Taking the card, Grant learned that his companion was Mr. HenryReynolds and was a broker, with an office in New Street.
"I see you are a broker, sir," said Grant. "Tom Calder wants to geta place in a broker's office."
"I should prefer that he would try some other broker," said Mr.Reynolds, smiling. "I don't want a boy who deals with the bucketshops."
At this point Tom re-entered the car, having finished his cigarette.Observing that his place had been taken, he sat down at a littledistance.
"When you get ready to take a place," said the broker, "call at myoffice, and though I won't promise to give you a place, I shall feelwell disposed to if I can make room for you."
"Thank you, sir," said
"I have good hopes of it. By the way, you may as well give me yourname."
"I am Grant Thornton, of Colebrook," said our hero.
Mr. Reynolds entered the name in a little pocket diary, and left theseat, which Tom Calder immediately took.
"Who's that old codger?" he asked.
"The gentleman who has just left me is a New York business man."
"You got pretty thick with him, eh?"
"We talked a little."
Grant took care not to mention that Mr. Reynolds was a broker, ashe knew that Tom would press for an introduction in that case.
When they reached New York, Tom showed a disposition to remain withGrant, but the latter said: "We'd better separate, and we can meetagain after we have attended to our business."
A meeting place was agreed upon, and Tom went his way.
Now came the difficult part of Grant's task. Where should he go todispose of his pearls? He walked along undecided, till he came to alarge jewelry store. It struck him that this would be a good placefor his purpose, and he entered.
"What can I do for you, young man?" asked a man of thirty behind thecounter.
"I have some pearl ornaments I would like to sell," said Grant.
"Indeed," said the clerk, fixing a suspicious glance upon Grant;"let me see them."
Grant took out the necklace and bracelets, and passed them over. Nosooner had he done so than a showily dressed lady advanced to theplace where he was standing, and held out her hand for theornaments, exclaiming: "I forbid you to buy those articles, sir.They are mine. The boy stole them from me, and I have followed himhere, suspecting that he intended to dispose of them."
"That is false," exclaimed Grant, indignantly. "I never saw thatwoman before in my life."
"So you are a liar as well as a thief!" said the woman. "You willplease give me those pearls, sir."
The clerk looked at the two contestants in indecision. He wasdisposed to believe the lady's statement.
CHAPTER VII -- MRS. SIMPSON COMES TO GRIEF
"Surely I have a right to my own property," said the showily dressedlady in a tone of authority, which quite imposed upon theweak-minded salesman.
"I dare say you are right, ma'am," said he, hesitatingly.
"Of course I am," said she.
"If you give her those pearls, which belong to my mother, I willhave you arrested," said Grant, plucking up spirit.
"Hoity-toity!" said the lady, contemptuously. "I hope you won't payany regard to what that young thief says."
The clerk looked undecided. He beckoned an older salesman, and laidthe matter before him. The latter looked searchingly at the two.Grant was flushed and excited, and the lady had a brazen front.
"Do you claim these pearls, madam?" he said.
"I do," she answered, promptly.
"How did you come by them?"
"They were a wedding present from my husband."
"May I ask your name?"
The lady hesitated a moment, then answered:
"Mrs. Simpson."
"Where do you live?"
There was another slight hesitation. Then came the answer:
"No.--Madison Avenue."
Now Madison Avenue is a fashionable street, and the name produced animpression on the first clerk.
"I think the pearls belong to the lady," he whispered.
"I have some further questions to ask," returned the elder salesman,in a low voice.
"Do you know this boy whom you charge with stealing your property?"
"Yes," answered the lady, to Grant's exceeding surprise; "he is apoor boy whom I have employed to do errands."
"Has he had the run of your house?"
"Yes, that's the way of it. He must have managed to find his way tothe second floor, and opened the bureau drawer where I kept thepearls."
"What have you to say to this?" asked the elder salesman.
"Please ask the lady my name," suggested Grant.
"Don't you know your own name?" demanded the lady, sharply.
"Yes, but I don't think you do."
"Can you answer the boy's question, Mrs. Simpson?"
"Of course I can. His name is John Cavanaugh, and the very suit hehas on I gave him."
Grant was thunderstruck at the lady's brazen front. She wasoutwardly a fine lady, but he began to suspect that she was animpostor.
"I am getting tired of this," said the so-called Mrs. Simpson,impatiently. "Will you, or will you not, restore my pearls?" "Whenwe are satisfied that they belong to you, madam," said the eldersalesman, coolly. "I don't feel like taking the responsibility, butwill send for my employer, and leave the matter to him to decide."
"I hope I won't have long to wait, sir."
"I will send at once."
"It's a pretty state of things when a lady has her own property keptfrom her," said Mrs. Simpson, while the elder clerk was at the otherend of the store, giving some instructions to a boy.
"I don't in the least doubt your claim to the articles, Mrs.Simpson," said the first salesman, obsequiously. "Come, boy, you'dbetter own up that you have stolen the articles, and the lady willprobably let you off this time."
"Yes, I will let him off this time," chimed in the lady. "I don'twant to send him to prison."
"If you can prove that I am a thief, I am willing to go," saidGrant, hotly.
By this time the elder salesman had come back.
"Is your name John Cavanaugh, my boy?" he asked.
"No, sir."
"Did you ever see this lady before?"
"No, sir."
The lady threw up her hands in feigned amazement.
"I wouldn't have believed the boy would lie so!" she said.
"What is your name?"
"My name is Grant Thornton. I live in Colebrook, and my father isRev. John Thornton."
"I know there is such a minister there. To whom do these pearlsbelong?"
"To my mother."
"A likely story that a country minister's wife should own suchvaluable pearls," said Mrs. Simpson, in a tone of sarcasm.
"How do you account for it?" asked the clerk.
"They were given my mother years since, by a rich lady who was agood friend of hers. She has never had occasion to wear them."
Mrs. Simpson smiled significantly.
"The boy has learned his story," she said. "I did not give youcredit for such an imagination, John Cavanaugh."
"My name is Grant Thornton, madam," said our hero, gravely.
Five minutes later two men entered the store. One was a policeman,the other the head of the firm. When Grant's eye fell on thepoliceman he felt nervous, but when he glanced at the gentleman hisface lighted up with pleasure.
"Why, it's Mr. Clifton," he said.
"Grant Thornton," said the jeweler, in surprise. "Why, I thought--"
"You will do me justice, Mr. Clifton," said Grant, and thereupon herelated the circumstances already known to the reader.
When Mrs. Simpson found that the boy whom she had selected as aneasy victim was known to the proprietor of the place, she becamenervous, and only thought of escape.
"It is possible that I am mistaken," she said. "Let me look at thepearls again."
They were held up for her inspection.
"They are very like mine," she said, after a brief glance; "but Isee there is a slight difference."
"How about the boy, madam?" asked the elder clerk.
"He is the very image of my errand boy; but if Mr. Clifton knowshim, I must be mistaken. I am sorry to have given you so muchtrouble. I have an engagement to meet, and must go."
"Stop, madam!" said Mr. Clifton, sternly, interposing an obstacle toher departure, "we can't spare you yet."
"I really must go, sir. I give up all claim to the pearls."
"That is not sufficient. You have laid claim to them, knowing thatthey were not yours. Officer, have you ever seen this woman before?"
"Yes, sir, I know her well."
"How dare you insult me?" demanded Mrs. Simpson; but there was atremor in her voice.
"I give her in charge for an attempted swindle," said Mr. Clifton.
"You will have to come with me, madam," said the policeman. "You mayas well go quietly."
"Well, the game is up," said the woman, with a careless laugh.
"It came near succeeding, though."
"Now, my boy," said the jeweler, "I will attend to your business.You want to sell these pearls?"
"Yes, sir; they are of no use to mother, and she needs the money."
"At what do you value them?"
"I leave that to you, sir. I shall be satisfied with what you thinkthem worth."
The jeweler examined them attentively. After his examination wasconcluded, he said: "I am willing to give four hundred dollars forthem. Of course they cost more, but I shall have to reset them."
"That is more than I expected," said Grant, joyfully. "It will payall our debts, and give us a little fund to help us in future."
"Do you wish the money now? There might be some risk in a boy likeyou carrying so much with you."
"What would you advise, Mr. Clifton?"
"That you take perhaps a hundred dollars, and let me bring thebalance next Saturday night, when I come to pass Sunday atColebrook."