Alger Horatio Jr.
Bound to Rise; Or, Up the Ladder
CHAPTER XVI. ASKING A FAVOR
There was one other tailor in the village, James Hayden, and to him Luke Harrison determined to transfer his custom, hoping to be allowed to run up a bill with him. He did not like his style of cut as well as Merrill's, but from the latter he was cut off unless he would pay the old bill, and this would be inconvenient.
He strolled into James Hayden's shop and asked to look at some cloth for pants.
Hayden was a shrewd man and, knowing that Luke was a customer of his neighbor, suspected the reason of his transfer. However, he showed the cloth, and, a selection having been made, measured him.
"When will you have them done?" asked Luke.
"In three days."
"I want them by that time sure."
"Of course you pay cash."
"Why," said Luke, hesitating, "I suppose you won't mind giving me a month's credit."
Mr. Hayden shook his head.
"I couldn't do it. My goods are already paid for and I have to pay for the work. I must have cash."
"Merrill always trusted me," pleaded Luke.
"Then why did you leave him?"
"Why," said Luke, a little taken aback, "he didn't cut the last clothes exactly to suit me."
"Didn't suit you? I thought you young people preferred his cut to mine. I am old-fashioned. Hadn't you better go back to Merrill?"
"I've got tired of him," said Luke. "I'll get a pair of pants of you, and see how I like them."
"I'll make them but I can't trust."
"All right. I'll bring the money," said Luke, who yet thought that he might get off by paying part down when he took the pants.
"The old fellow's deuced disobliging," said he o Frank Heath, when they got into the street.
"I don't know as I blame him," said Frank.
"I wish Merrill wasn't so stiff about it. He's terribly afraid of losing his bill."
"That's where he's right," said Frank, laughing. "I'd be the same if I were in his place."
"Do you always pay your bills right off?" said Luke.
"Yes, I do. I don't pretend to be a model boy. I'm afraid I keep bad company," he continued, "but I don't owe a cent to anybody except for board and that I pay up at the end of every week."
Luke dropped the subject, not finding it to his taste.
On Saturday night he went round to the tailor's.
"Have you got my pants done, Mr. Hayden?"
"Yes—here they are."
"Let me see," he said, "how much are they?"
"Nine dollars."
"I'll pay you three dollars to-night and the rest at the end of next week," he said.
"Very well; then you may have them at the end of next week."
"Why not now? They are done, ain't they?"
"Yes," said Mr. Hayden; "but not paid for."
"Didn't I tell you I'd pay three dollars now?"
"Our terms are cash down."
"You ain't afraid of me, are you?" blustered Luke.
"You understood when you ordered the pants that they were to be paid for when they were taken."
"I hate to see people so afraid of losing their money."
"Do you? Was that why you left Merrill?"
Luke colored. He suspected that the fact of his unpaid bill at the other tailor's was known to Mr. Hayden.
"I've a great mind to leave them on your hands."
"I prefer to keep them on my hands, rather than to let them go out of the shop without being paid for."
"Frank," said Luke, turning to his companion, "lend me five dollars, can't you?"
"I'm the wrong fellow to ask," said he; "I've got to pay my board and another bill to-night."
"Oh, let your bills wait."
"And lend you the money? Thank you, I ain't so green. When should I get the money again?"
"Next week."
"In a horn. No; I want to wear the pants to-morrow. I'm going out to ride."
"I don't see, unless you fork over the spondulies."
"I can't. I haven't got enough money."
"See Harry Walton."
"I don't believe he has got any. He bought a lot of clothes last week. They must have cost a pile."
"Can't help it. I saw him open his pocketbook last night and in it was a roll of bills."
Turning to the tailor, Luke said: "Just lay aside the pants and I'll come back for them pretty soon."
Mr. Hayden smiled to himself.
"There's nothing like fetching up these fellows with a round turn," he said. "'No money, no clothes'—that's my motto. Merrill told me all about that little bill that sent Luke Harrison over here. He don't run up any bill with me, if I know myself."
Luke went round to the village store. Harry Walton usually spent a part of every evening in instructive reading and study; but after a hard day's work he felt it necessary to pass an hour or so in the open air, so he came down to the center of center of the village.
"Hello, Walton!" said Luke, accosting him with unusual cordiality. "You are just the fellow I want to see."
"Am I?" inquired Harry in surprise, for there was no particular friendship or intimacy between them.
"Yes; I'm going to ask a little favor of you—a mere trifle. Lend me five or ten dollars for a week. Five will do it, you can't spare more."
Harry shook his head.
"I can't do that, Luke."
"Why not? Haven't you got as much?"
"Yes, I've got it."
"Then why won't you lend it to me?"
"I have little money and I can't run any risk."
"Do you think I won't pay you back?"
"Why do you need to borrow of me? You get much higher wages than I do."
"I want to pay a bill to-night. I didn't think you'd be so unaccommodating."
"I shouldn't be willing to lend to anyone," said Harry.
"The money isn't mine. I am going to send it home."
"A great sight you are!" sneered Luke. "I wanted to see just how mean you were. You've got the money in your pocket but you won't lend it."
This taunt did not particularly disturb Harry. There is a large class like Luke, who offended at being refused a loan, though quite aware that they are never likely to repay it. My young readers will be sure to meet specimens of this class, against whom the only protection is a very firm and decided "No."
CHAPTER XVII. THE NIGHT SCHOLARS
Immediately after Thanksgiving Day, the winter schools commenced. That in the center district was kept by a student of Dartmouth college, who had leave of absence from the college authorities for twelve weeks, in order by teaching to earn something to help defray his college expenses. Leonard Morgan, now a junior, was a tall, strongly made young man of twenty-two, whose stalwart frame had not been reduced by his diligent study. There were several shoe shops in the village, each employing from one to three boys, varying in age from fifteen to nineteen. Why could he not form a private class, to meet in the evening, to be instructed in advanced arithmetic, or, if desired, in Latin and Greek? He broached the idea to Stephen Bates, the prudential committeeman.
"I don't know," said Mr. Bates, "what our boys will think of it. I've got a boy that I'll send, but whether you'll get enough to make it pay I don't know."
"I suppose I can have the schoolhouse, Mr. Bates?"
"Yes, there won't be no objection. Won't it be too much for you after teachin' in the daytime?"
"It would take a good deal to break me down."
"Then you'd better draw up a notice and put it up in the store and tavern," suggested the committeeman.
In accordance with this advice, the young teacher posted up in the two places the following notice:
"EVENING SCHOOL
"I propose to start an evening school for those who are occupied during the day, and unable to attend the district school. Instruction will be given in such English branches as may be desired, and also in Latin and Greek, if any are desirous of pursuing a classical course. The school will commence next Monday evening at the schoolhouse, beginning at seven o'clock. Terms: Seventy cents a week, or five dollars for the term of ten weeks.
"LEONARD MORGAN."
"Are you going to join the class, Walton?" asked Frank Heath.
"Yes," said Harry, promptly.
"Where'll you get the money?" asked Luke Harrison, in a jeering tone.
"I shan't have to go far for it."
"I don't see how you can spend so much money."
"I am willing to spend money when I can get my money's worth," said our hero. "Are you going?"
"To school? No, I guess not. I've got through my schooling."
"You don't know enough to hurt you, do you, Luke?" inquired Frank Heath, slyly.
"Nor I don't want to. I know enough to get along."
"I don't and never expect to," said Harry.
"Do you mean to go to school when you're a gray-headed old veteran?" asked Frank, jocosely.
"I may not go to school then but I shan't give up learning then," said Harry, smiling. "One can learn without going to school. But while I'm young, I mean to go to school as much as I can."
"I guess you're right," said Frank; "I'd go myself, only I'm too lazy. It's hard on a feller to worry his brain with study after he's been at work all day. I don't believe I was cut out for a great scholar."
"I don't believe you were, Frank," said Joe Bates.
"You always used to stand pretty well down toward the foot of the class when you went to school."
"A feller can't be smart as well as handsome. As long as I'm good-looking, I won't complain because I wasn't born with the genius of a Bates."
"Thank you for the compliment, Frank, though I suppose it means that I am homely. I haven't got any genius or education to spare."
When Monday evening arrived ten pupils presented themselves, of whom six were boys, or young men, and four were girls. Leonard Morgan felt encouraged. A class of ten, though paying but five dollars each, would give him fifty dollars, which would be quite an acceptable addition to his scanty means.
"I am glad to see so many," he said. "I think our evening class will be a success. I will take your names and ascertain what studies you wish to pursue."
When he came to Harry; he asked, "What do you propose to study?"
"I should like to take up algebra and Latin, if you are willing," answered our hero.
"Have you studied either at all?"
"No, sir; I have not had an opportunity."
"How far have you been in arithmetic?"
"Through the square and cube root?"
"If you have been so far, you will have no difficulty with algebra. As to Latin, one of the girls wishes to take up that and I will put you in the class with her."
It will be seen that Harry was growing ambitious. He didn't expect to go to college, though nothing would have pleased him better; but he felt that some knowledge of a foreign language could do him no harm. Franklin, whom he had taken as his great exemplar, didn't go to college; yet he made himself one of the foremost scientific men of the age and acquired enduring reputation, not only as a statesman and a patriot, but chiefly as a philosopher.
A little later, Leonard Morgan came round to the desk at which Harry was sitting.
"I brought a Latin grammar with me," he said, "thinking it probable some one might like to begin that language. You can use it until yours comes."
"Thank you," said Harry; and he eagerly took the book, and asked to have a lesson set, which was done.
"I can get more than that," he said.
"How much more?"
"Twice as much."
Still later he recited the double lesson, and so correctly that the teacher's attention was drawn to him.
"That's a smart boy," he said. "I mean to take pains with him. What a pity he can't go to college!"
CHAPTER XVIII. LOST, OR STOLEN
Harry learned rapidly. At the end of four weeks he had completed the Latin grammar, or that part of it which his teacher, thought necessary for a beginner to be familiar with, and commenced translating the easy sentences in "Andrews' Latin Reader."
"You are getting on famously, Harry," said his teacher. "I never had a scholar who advanced so."
"I wish I knew as much as you."
"Don't give me too much credit. When I compare myself with our professors, I feel dissatisfied."
"But you know so much more than I do," said Harry.
"I ought to; I am seven years older."
"What are you going to study, Mr. Morgan?"
"I intend to study law."
"I should like to be an editor," said Harry; "but I don't see much prospect of it."
"Why not?"
"An editor must know a good deal."
"There are some who don't," said Leonard Morgan, with a smile. "However, you would like to do credit to the profession and it is certainly in these modern days a very important profession."
"How can I prepare myself?"
"By doing your best to acquire a good education; not only by study but by reading extensively. An editor should be a man of large information. Have you ever practiced writing compositions?"
"A little; not much."
"If you get time to write anything, and will submit it to me, I will point out such faults as I may notice."
"I should like to do that," said Harry, promptly.
"What subject shall I take?"
"You may choose your own subject. Don't be too ambitious but select something upon which you have some ideas of your own."
"Suppose I take my motto? 'Live and learn.'"
"Do so, by all means. That is a subject upon which you may fairly be said to have some ideas of your own."
In due time Harry presented a composition on this subject. The thoughts were good, but, as might be expected, the expression was somewhat crude, and of course the teacher found errors to correct and suggestions to make. These Harry eagerly welcomed and voluntarily proposed to rewrite the composition. The result was a very much improved draft. He sent a copy home and received in reply a letter from his father, expressing surprise and gratification at the excellence of his essay.
"I am glad, Harry," the letter concluded, "that you have formed just views of the importance of learning. I have never ceased to regret that my own opportunities for education were so limited and that my time has been so much absorbed by the effort to make a living, that I have been able to do so little toward supplying my deficiencies. Even in a pecuniary way an education will open to you a more prosperous career, and lead, I hope, to competence, instead of the narrow poverty which has been my lot. I will not complain of my own want of success, if I can see my children prosper."
But while intent upon cultivating his mind, Harry had not lost sight of the great object which had sent him from home to seek employment among strangers. He had undertaken to meet the note which his father had given Squire Green in payment for the cow. By the first of December he had saved up thirty-three dollars toward this object. By the middle of January the note would come due.
Of course he had not saved so much without the strictest economy, and by denying himself pleasures which were entirely proper. For instance, he was waited upon by Luke Harrison on the first day of December, and asked to join in a grand sleighing excursion to a town ten miles distant, where it was proposed to take supper, and, after a social time, return late in the evening.
"I would like to go," said Harry, who was strongly, tempted, for he was by no means averse to pleasure; "but I am afraid I cannot. How much will it cost?"
"Three dollars apiece. That pays for the supper too."
Harry shook his head. It was for rum a week's wages. If he were not trying to save money for his father, he might have ventured to incur this expense, but he felt that under present circumstances it would not be best.
"I can't go," said Harry.
"Oh, come along," urged Luke. "Don't make such a mope of yourself. You'll be sure to enjoy it."
"I know I should; but I can't afford it."
"I never knew a feller that thought so much of money as you," sneered Luke.
"I suppose it looks so," said Harry; "but it isn't true."
"Everybody says you are a miser."
"I have good reasons for not going."
"If you would come, it would make the expense lighter for the rest of us and you would have a jolly time."
This conversation took place as they were walking home from the store in the evening. Harry pulled out his handkerchief suddenly from his pocket and with it came his pocketbook, containing all his savings. He didn't hear if fall; but Luke did, and the latter, moreover, suspected what it was. He did not call Harry's attention to it, but, falling back, said: "I've got to go back to the store. I forgot something. Good night!"
"Good night!" said Harry, unsuspiciously.
Luke stooped swiftly while our hero's back was turned, and picked up the pocketbook. He slipped it into his own pocket, and, instead of going back to the store, went to his own room, locked the door, and then eagerly pulled out the pocketbook and counted the contents.
"Thirty-three dollars! What a miser that fellow is! It serves him right to lose his money."
CHAPTER XIX. AN UNWELCOME VISITOR
Luke Harrison had picked up Harry's pocketbook, and, though knowing it to be his, concealed the discovery upon the impulse of the moment.
"What I find is mine," he said to himself. "Of course it is. Harry Walton deserves to lose his money."
It will be seen that he had already decided to keep the money. It looked so tempting to him, as his eyes rested on the thick roll of bills—for, though insignificant in amount, the bills were ones and twos, and twenty in number—that he could not make up his mind to return it.
Luke was fond of new clothes. He wanted to reestablish his credit with Merrill, for he was in want of a new coat and knew that it would be useless to order one unless he had some money to pay on account. He decided to use a part of Harry's money for this purpose. It would be better, however, he thought, to wait a day or two, as the news of the loss would undoubtedly spread abroad, and his order might excite suspicion, particularly as he had been in Harry's company at the time the money disappeared. He therefore put the pocketbook into his trunk, and carefully locked it. Then he went to bed.
Meanwhile, Harry reached Mr. Leavitt's unconscious of the serious misfortune which had befallen him. He went into the sitting room and talked a while with Mr. Leavitt, and at ten o'clock took his lamp and went up to bed. While he was undressing he felt in his pocket for his money, intending to lock it up in his trunk as usual. His dismay may be conceived when he could not find it.
Poor Harry sank into a chair with that sudden sinking of the heart which unlooked-for misfortune brings and tried to think where he could have left the pocketbook.
That evening he found himself under the necessity of buying a necktie at the store, and so had taken it from his trunk. Could he have left it on the counter? No; he distinctly remembered replacing it in his pocket. He felt the need of consulting with somebody, and with his lamp in his hand went downstairs again.
"You haven't concluded to sit up all night, have you?" asked Mr. Leavitt, surprised at his reappearance.
"Are you sick, Harry?" asked Mrs. Leavitt. "You're looking dreadfully pale."
"I've lost my pocketbook," said Harry..
"How much was there in it?" asked his employer.
"Thirty-three dollars," answered Harry.
"Whew! that's a good deal of money to lose. I shouldn't want to lose so much myself. When did you have it last?"
Harry told his story, Mr. Leavitt listening attentively
"And you came right home?"
"Yes."
"Alone."
"No; Luke Harrison came with me."
"Are you two thick together?"
"Not at all. He doesn't like me, and I don't fancy him."
"What was he talking about?"
"He wanted me to join a sleighing party."
"What did you say?"
"I said I couldn't afford it. Then he charged me with being a miser, as he often does."
"Did he come all the way home with you?"
"No; he left me at Deacon Brewster's. He said he must go back to the store."
"There is something queer about this," said Mr. Leavitt, shrewdly. "Do you want my advice?"
"Yes; I wish you would advise me, for I don't know what to do."
"Then go to the store at once. Ask, but without attracting any attention, if Luke came back there after leaving you. Then ask Mr. Meade, the storekeeper, whether he noticed you put back your pocketbook."
"But I know I did."
"Then it will be well to say nothing about it, at least publicly. If you find that Luke's excuse was false, and that he did not go back, go at once to his boarding place, and ask him whether he saw you drop the pocketbook. You might have dropped it and he picked it up."
"Suppose he says no?"
"Then we must watch whether he seems flush of money for the next few days."
This seemed to Harry good advice. He retraced his steps to the store, carefully looking for the lost pocketbook. But of course, it was not to be seen and he entered the store troubled and out of spirits.
"I thought you went home, Harry," said Frank Heath.
"You see I am here again," said our hero.
"Time to shut up shop," said Mr. Meade, the storekeeper. "You boys will have to adjourn till to-morrow."
"Where's Luke Harrison?" asked Frank Heath.
"Didn't he go out with you?"
"Yes; but he left me some time ago. He came back here, didn't he?"
"No; he hasn't been here since."
"He spoke of coming," said Harry. "He wanted me to join that sleighing party."
"Good night, boys," said the storekeeper, significantly.
They took the hint and went out. Their way lay in different directions, and they parted company.
"Now I must call on Luke," said Harry to himself.
"I hope he found the pocketbook. He wouldn't be wicked enough to keep it."
But he was not quite so sure of this as he would like to have been. He felt almost sick as he thought of the possibility that he might never recover the money which he had saved so gladly, though with such painful economy. It represented the entire cash earnings of eleven weeks.
Luke Harrison boarded with a Mr. Glenham, a carpenter, and it was at his door that Harry knocked.
"Is Luke Harrison at home?" he inquired of Mrs. Glenham, who opened the door.
"At home and abed, I reckon," she replied.
"I know it's late, Mrs. Glenham, but it is about a matter of importance that I wish to see Luke."
"I reckon it's about the sleighing party."
"No, it is quite another thing. I won't stay but minute."
"Well, I suppose you can go up."
Harry went upstairs and knocked. Ordinarily, Luke would have been asleep, for generally he sank to sleep five minutes after his head touched the pillow; but to-night the excitement of his dishonest intention kept him awake, and he started uneasily when he heard the knock.
"Who's there?" he called out from the bed.
"It's I—Harry Walton."
"He's come about that pocketbook," thought Luke.
"I'm in bed," he answered.
"I want to see you a minute, on a matter of importance."
"Come to-morrow morning."
"I must see you now."
"Oh, well, come in, if you must," said Luke.
