TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:
—Obvious print and punctuation errors were corrected.
—Bold text has been rendered as =bold text=.
[Illustration: ”ANY THING GOING ON TO-NIGHT?” VAN CLEEF ASKED THE POLICE
SERGEANT. (_Page 44._)]
UNDER ORDERS
THE STORY OF A YOUNG REPORTER
BY
KIRK MUNROE
AUTHOR OF “THE FLAMINGO FEATHER,” “DERRICK STERLING,”
“DORYMATES,” “CAMPMATES,” ETC., ETC.
ILLUSTRATED
G. P. PUTNAM’S SONS
NEW YORK
LONDON
27 WEST TWENTY-THIRD ST.
27 KING WILLIAM ST., STRAND
The Knickerbocker Press
1890
COPYRIGHTED, 1890
BY
KIRK MUNROE
The Knickerbocker Press, New York
Electrotyped, Printed, and Bound by
G. P. Putnam’s Sons
TO JOHN BOGART
FOR MANY YEARS CITY EDITOR OF THE NEW YORK “SUN”
who, more than any other, helped me to obtain a literary foothold,
whose honesty of purpose, strict sense of justice, and unswerving
fidelity to duty uplifted him as an example of the ideal city
editor, the dedication of this story of newspaper life is offered
as a tribute of gratitude and affection by
THE AUTHOR
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER PAGE
I.—THE CAPTAIN OF THE CREW RESIGNS 1
II.—TRYING TO BECOME A REPORTER 16
III.—THE OLD GENTLEMAN OF THE OXYGEN 32
IV.—BEGINNING A NEW LIFE 49
V.—THE KIND OF A FELLOW BILLINGS WAS 66
VI.—A REPORTER AT HOME 81
VII.—“NO LOAFERS NOR REPORTERS ADMITTED” 96
VIII.—”LORD STEEREM,” THE COXSWAIN 111
IX.—AN ACT OF FOLLY AND A CRUEL DISPATCH 125
X.—MYLES MAKES A STARTLING DISCOVERY 141
XI.—A FIGHT AND A MISTAKE 157
XII.—MYLES FALLS INTO A TRAP 172
XIII.—THE STRIKERS CAPTURE A TRAIN 186
XIV.—A RACE AGAINST TIME 199
XV.—THE 50TH REGIMENT, N. G. S. N. Y. 214
XVI.—RECALLED AND DISMISSED 229
XVII.—THE BEST SISTER IN THE WORLD 243
XVIII.—WHO ROBBED THE SAFE? 260
XIX.—REINSTATED AND ARRESTED 277
XX.—COLLECTING EVIDENCE FOR THE DEFENCE 294
XXI.—A DAY OF TRIAL 311
XXII.—TRIUMPHANTLY ACQUITTED 329
ILLUSTRATIONS.
PAGE
“ANY THING GOING ON TO-NIGHT?” VAN CLEEF ASKED THE
POLICE SERGEANT _Frontispiece_
“IF YOU MUST GO TO WORK AT ONCE, WHY NOT TRY
JOURNALISM?” 14
VAN CLEEF SAID SOMETHING TO THE CITY EDITOR IN A LOW
TONE 30
A HOARSE VOICE SHOUTED THE OMINOUS WORD “SPOTTER” 68
“I DON’T SEE HOW WE CAN BREAK THROUGH THAT RULE,
EVEN IN YOUR CASE” 96
AS HE WAS STOOPING TO SET FIRE TO THE READY FUEL,
THE SOUND OF HIS OWN NAME CAUSED HIM TO DROP
THE MATCH 150
THE STRIKERS REORGANIZING THE MILITIA 192
THE CAR PLUNGED FORWARD, TURNED COMPLETELY OVER,
AND CRUSHED POOR MYLES BENEATH IT 212
THE NEXT MOMENT HE FOUND HIMSELF STANDING ON THE
PLATFORM BESIDE THE COLONEL 226
HE LEANED GLOOMILY AGAINST THE MANTEL SHELF THAT
NEARLY FILLED ONE SIDE OF THE ROOM 248
“WHO ARE YOU?” SAID BILL, HOLDING ON TO TIGE WITH
ALL HIS MIGHT 310
“IT’S ALL RIGHT, OLD MAN. YOUR SPACE HAS BEEN
MEASURED, AND THE FULL BILL IS ALLOWED” 342
UNDER ORDERS.
CHAPTER I.
THE CAPTAIN OF THE CREW RESIGNS.
“THE situation certainly looks desperate, Anna,” said Mr. Manning, with
a deep sigh, as he turned wearily on his couch and reached out a thin
white hand that was immediately clasped between the plump ones of his
cheery-faced wife. Her face did not look so very cheery just at this
moment, however, for lines of anxiety were wrinkling her forehead and
her eyes were full of tears. Then, too, she was thinking so hard that
her mouth was all puckered up.
“Yes, it does look a little desperate,” she admitted; “but, bless you!
it has looked desperate plenty of times before, and we have always come
out all right somehow. God has been too good to us so far to desert us
now, and I, for one, am willing to trust him to the end.”
“Well, dear,” answered her husband, “if you are, I ought to be, for the
heaviest part of the burden must fall on you.”
The Mannings lived in a pleasant, old-fashioned New Jersey village a
few miles out of New York, and had, until recently, been in the most
comfortable circumstances. Mr. Manning was the manager of a large
manufacturing business and received a handsome salary, from which he
should have laid by a snug sum against a “rainy day.” He knew it was
his duty to do this; but each year brought some new expense that seemed
as if it ought to be met, and each year he said to himself:
“Well, I can’t do any thing about it this time, that’s certain; but
next year I must surely begin to lay something aside.”
So year after year passed, until finally, when Myles Manning, the only
son of the family, was ready to enter college, the annual expenses were
found to be in excess of the handsome annual income, and nothing had
been saved.
Alarmed at this state of affairs, and not prepared just then to
retrench or practise an economy that would make them seem poor in the
eyes of their neighbors, Mr. Manning mortgaged their beautiful home.
His wife at first refused to sign the necessary papers, but was at last
persuaded into doing so.
It was only to raise enough money to see Myles properly through
college. Then he would go into business and soon be in a position to
help them, said Mr. Manning. He also said there was nothing in the
world like college for a young man. Besides the education that it gave
him, he made friends in college that were friends for life and always
ready to help one another. Every thing depended, though, upon the set
he got into. It must be the very best in the college, to be worth any
thing at all. To keep up with that set in X—— College would cost
something, and unless they mortgaged the place he really did not see
how he was to raise the necessary money. They surely could not do less
for their only son than to send him handsomely through college, and,
after all, it would in the end prove one of the very best investments
they could make.
So Mrs. Manning was persuaded, the mortgage was signed, and Myles went
to X—— College. There, on account of his good looks, his generous
disposition, his unfailing good-nature, and his apparent command of
ready money, he speedily became the most popular man of his class, and
a leader in its “very best set,” by which was meant the wealthiest and
most extravagant lot of young fellows in it.
At the time this story opens he had nearly finished his third year of
college life, and was looking forward with joyful anticipations to
being soon that proudest, and, in his own estimation, most important
of mortals—a senior. He was captain of the university crew, which was
in steady training for the great annual race with the Z—— College
crew at New London. He was also the best all-around athlete of his
college. This, according to Ben Watkins, who had been his rival for the
captaincy of the crew, and was almost the only fellow in his class who
disliked Myles, was not surprising. He said that Manning did nothing
else besides row and practise in the gymnasium. This was not true;
for, although Myles did not rank very high at examinations, he still
studied enough to enable him to pass with a fair average of marks. He
had, moreover, determined upon a career which it seemed to him would
not require a very profound scholarship. It was that of a politician;
and he felt quite sure that the influence of his own father, or that
of some of his gay young college friends, would secure him some snug
political position as soon as he was graduated.
Thus far, therefore, life had gone easily and prosperously with this
light-hearted young fellow, and its future looked bright before him.
He knew nothing of its ruder aspects—of its despair, its hunger, and
its poverty. There were those who said of him that, while he was a good
fair-weather sailor, he was not of the stuff to face, and do brave
battle with, the storms of adversity, should they ever overtake him.
Now, just such a storm had overtaken Myles Manning, and he was to
be tried. Nearly a year before a trouble of the eyes with which Mr.
Manning was afflicted had suddenly resulted in total blindness. It was
at first supposed to be only temporary, but as time wore on, and one
painful operation after another failed to afford relief, hope began
to yield to despair, and his career of usefulness seemed ended. Thus
far his salary had been continued, and the affairs of the Manning
family had gone on much as usual. At last there came a letter in which,
while regretting the necessity, the president of the company that
had employed Mr. Manning informed him that, as there was no present
prospect that he would be able to resume his duties, the payment of his
salary must cease from that date.
As Mrs. Manning finished reading this politely cruel letter to her
husband she tried to speak cheerfully of it, and to find some gleam of
hope in their situation. In her heart, however, she was compelled to
admit that it was indeed desperate, and that she did not know which way
to turn.
It was Saturday, and Kate Manning, the only daughter of the family, and
a year younger than Myles, was home from Vassar, the summer vacation
at which was already begun. The evening before, she and her mother
planned a trip to a noted sea-side resort, at which they hoped Mr.
Manning might be benefited, and where Kate, who was as fond of society
as her brother, and in her way quite as popular as he, anticipated a
delightful time. Myles had written that he expected an invitation to
go on a yachting trip with Bert Smedley, one of the wealthiest of his
classmates. Thus he too might be looked for at the same famous resort.
He was to come home for Sunday to talk over plans for the summer.
Myles was never in better spirits, nor more full of enthusiasm over
what he was doing, and about to do, than when he reached home that
Saturday evening. After he had kissed his mother and sister, and been
warned by them not to be boisterous, as his father was sleeping, they
could do nothing for some time but sit and listen to his glowing
accounts of college life and the joys of which it held so many for him.
At last he noticed their mood, and, stopping short in the middle of a
glowing description of his crew and the splendid work it was doing, he
asked:
“But what ails you two? You are as mum as oysters.”
Then the mother crossed over to the sofa on which he sat, and, taking
one of his hands in hers, said:
“My poor dear boy! It is so good to see you bright and happy that we
hadn’t the heart to interrupt you with our sorrows.”
“Sorrows!” exclaimed Myles, in a bewildered tone. “What do you mean,
mother? Is any one dead? or is father worse?”
Then they told him the whole story; of the letter that had come that
day, of the mortgage, with its ever accumulating load of interest, and
of the desperate financial condition of the family generally.
When the sad tale was ended the boy sat for a moment as motionless as
though stunned. Then in a husky voice he asked:
“Is that all, mother?”
“No, dear, it is not,” answered the brave little woman. “Kate and
I have been looking at the situation in every possible light this
afternoon, and have finally decided upon a plan in which we want
your help. It is to rent this house furnished, and with every thing
belonging to it, except the gardener’s cottage. Into that we will
move, and there we can manage to live very comfortably. Of course all
the servants will be dismissed, and Kate is going to give up Vassar
in order to stay at home and help me with the housework. In this way
we hope to be able to pay the interest on the mortgage until there
is a good chance to sell the property, when we shall be relieved of
that burden. You have but one more year of college. By practising the
closest economy all around—and this is where you can help us,—we
think we can get you through with that. Then you will find some
business and aid in supporting the family. Thus we shall have only one
year of real hard times, and that will soon be over with.”
“Mother!” exclaimed the boy, giving a squeeze to the soft little hand
clasped in his big brown ones; “you are the very best and bravest woman
in the world. And, Kate, you are a dear, splendid girl. But do you
suppose for one minute that I am going to let you two do all this for
me and do nothing for myself? No, sir-e-e! If Kate must give up her
college, in which I know she is doing a thousand times better than I am
in mine, why, I shall do the same. I shall do it on Monday too. College
isn’t worth half so much in this world as home is, and where there is
going to be a fight to keep that, I’m going to be one of the fighters.
Now don’t say a word against it; I know the right thing to do, and I’m
going to do it.”
Nothing they could say served to alter his determination in the
slightest. He only added to his arguments that he was not giving up so
very much after all, for it wouldn’t be much fun to stay in college
after he was no longer able to hold up his end. Into his mind came
also unpleasant memories of a few little bills that even his generous
allowance had not been sufficient to meet; but of these he said
nothing. He felt that they were his private burden and must be borne
alone.
In spite of their remonstrances against his decision to leave college,
both Mrs. Manning and Kate were greatly cheered by his manly resolution
and brave words. As they listened to them their hearts grew many
degrees lighter than they had been before his arrival.
When the boy told his father of his plans, the next day, Mr. Manning
heartily approved of them. He only asked his son what steps he proposed
to take to get into business.
“My influence might be sufficient to secure you some sort of a position
with the M—— Company,” he added, naming the one for which he had
acted as manager.
“No, sir!” exclaimed Myles. “Any thing rather than that. I’d sell
papers on the street sooner than work under the man who wrote you that
letter. Don’t you worry, sir. I’ll find a place quick enough. There are
lots of fellows in my class who are the sons of business men, and who
would be glad to give me notes to their fathers. Some of them are sure
to take me in and give me a start.”
The father sighed as he thought of the difference between friends in
prosperity and friends in adversity; but he would not say any thing to
dampen his boy’s ardor.
“Let him work out his own salvation,” said the blind man to his wife.
“The harder the fight the more highly will he prize the victory when
it is won, as I am certain it will be sooner or later. I am afraid,
though, that it will be a long time before he is able to afford you any
real assistance. If he supports himself for the first year or two he
will be doing unusually well.”
When Myles and his sister went to church together that Sunday morning
many an admiring glance was cast at the stalwart young captain of the
X—— College “Varsity” crew, and more than one pretty girl privately
decided to wear X—— colors on the day of the great race.
On Monday, when his mother and Kate kissed him good-bye, tears stood in
their eyes, and the former said:
“Oh, Myles, think again, and seriously before you take this step. We
can manage somehow to keep you in college for one little year more; I
know we can.”
“Of course you could, mother. You could do any thing that you set out
to do, only I won’t be kept,” answered the boy, bravely. “The next
thing you hear of me will be that I am a junior partner in some Wall
Street concern; see if I am not.”
The first person Myles met upon entering the college-grounds was Bert
Smedley, who held out a paper to him, saying:
“You are just the one I was looking for, Manning. We have got to raise
a hundred or two more to see you fellows through at New London, and
our set has undertaken to do it. Here’s the subscription paper, and I
wouldn’t let a fellow sign it until I’d got your name to head the list.
So, now, give us something handsome as a starter.”
Myles’ heart sank at these words, and there was a choking sensation in
his throat as he answered:
“There’s no use coming to me, Bert, I can’t give a cent. You see, my
father has got into trouble, and I’ve got to leave college and go to
work to help him out of it. If you will only speak a word for me to
your father, though, and ask if he can’t find me some sort of a berth
in his business, whatever that is, for I don’t think I ever heard you
say, I’ll be ever so much obliged to you, and will do as much and more
for you if ever I have a chance.”
“But you are captain of the crew!” gasped Smedley, bewildered by this
sudden turn of affairs.
“No, I’m not, now,” answered Myles. “My resignation is already written
and sent in. It was hard enough to give it up, you’d better believe;
but it had to be done—and business before pleasure, you know. You’ll
speak a good word for me, old man, won’t you?”
“I’ll see,” replied the other. Then adding, “Excuse me a moment;
there’s Watkins, and I must have his name,” he hurried away, anxious
to be the first to communicate the astounding intelligence he had just
learned to Myles’ most prominent rival.
The news flew fast, and Myles had hardly begun to dismantle his room
of its many pretty bits of bric-a-brac, preparatory to packing up his
belongings, before it was filled with a throng of fellows anxious to
hear from his own lips the truth of the startling rumor.
“It’s a shame!” cried one.
“It will break up the crew!” exclaimed another.
“We might as well give the race to Z—— and be done with it.”
But their thoughts seemed to be mostly of their own disappointment.
Poor Myles, almost stunned by the clamor about him, could hardly hear
the words of pity for himself, and sympathy with his misfortune, that
were uttered here and there. It seemed to him that they cared nothing
for him or his troubles, but thought only of what a loss he would be to
the crew. Thus thinking he could not bring himself to ask their help
in securing employment, as he had intended; and, though they were the
fellows of his “set,” upon whom he depended for aid, he let one after
another of them leave the room without broaching the subject. At length
the room was cleared and he was left alone.
Not quite alone though. A fellow named Van Cleef, whom Myles knew but
slightly, and who was such a hard-working student as to be termed the
class “dig,” remained. As Myles turned and noticed him for the first
time Van Cleef said:
[Illustration: “IF YOU MUST GO TO WORK AT ONCE, WHY NOT TRY
JOURNALISM?” (_Page 15._)]
“I’m awfully sorry for you, Manning, and you are heartily welcome to
any thing I can do to help you. If you must go to work at once why not
try journalism? It is hard work, but it pays something from the very
start, and that is more than can be said of almost any other business.”