"FACE TROUBLES LIKE A MAN"
Seen in the glare of the furnace flames as he emerged from the foundry,
Hal Marchant was a very different individual from the workman who had
been so diligent in the casting-pit.
Then he had been much like his fellows--just a roughly clad artisan,
covered with sand, and with hands and face streaked with soot and dirt.
Now that he was ready to go into the town, however, he was a spruce and
dapper young gentleman. He had the manners of his father, and though not
a prig, nor less given to mirth than others of his age, he was a very
respectable and creditable member of society.
But Hal was genuinely grieved about his father, and as he walked home,
his thoughts were busy wondering what he would do, and how he could
possibly extricate himself from his difficulties.
"Surely this man will allow father to work off the debt," he murmured.
"I know for a matter of fact that we have numerous orders, and must be
making money. Why, then, should he not be allowed to remain? It might
take a few years to work off the amount, but it would be done."
But Hal did not know the world very well. If he had he would have
realized that this was a business transaction, and that when the
creditor had a power over the profits of the foundry, and particularly
one with such a reputation, he was not likely to forego his claims.
"We must just make the best of a bad matter," Hal at length remarked.
"I'll do my utmost to help, and all I make shall go to the funds to keep
up the house."
He turned into the gates of the big mansion and, mounting the steps,
opened the door with a latch-key. He paused on the threshold to listen,
but there was not a sound in the house.
"Strange!" he murmured. "The guv' said he was returning at once, and
these last few weeks one has usually known immediately whether he was at
home by hearing his steps as he paced up and down the floor of his room.
That was what first gave me an idea that something was wrong. But
perhaps he is in, and has fallen asleep in his chair, as I have often
known him to do."
Hal walked across the fine hall, and opening the door on the left,
looked into an apartment which was evidently library and smoking room in
one. He put his head through the doorway and inspected the apartment.
But there was no sign of his father, and he was about to withdraw when a
faint groan fell upon his ear. In an instant he darted in, and
discovered a figure huddled in a chair in a dark portion of the room. It
was Mr. Marchant.
Hal sprang to his side and looked eagerly in his face, but there was no
sign of recognition, for the eyes were closed. He placed his hand on the
wrist and felt for a pulse without success. Then the truth dawned upon
him--slowly at first, and then with a whirl, and with all its cruel
force.
"Dead!" he gasped. "Father dead!"
There was no doubt about it, and Hal had to face the matter. Once more
he felt for a pulse, and then he went to the bell and pressed the
button.
"Send for the doctor at once, please," he said when the servant
arrived. "I am afraid that my father is dead."
"Dead, sir? Dead!" the girl exclaimed in a whisper.
"Yes, that is the case," Hal answered. "Send for Dr. Harding."
Five minutes later the doctor arrived. He pronounced life extinct. "A
stroke," he said. "He died painlessly and swiftly. May we all do the
same, for it is a merciful ending. But tell me, Hal, was there cause?
Was there any sudden shock that you know of?"
"Yes; there was a great one," Hal answered slowly. "Father was ruined.
To-morrow he would have been in the position of his manager, instead of
the employer of hundreds of hands."
"Then he has had a merciful escape," said the doctor. "The blow was a
heavy one, and the life to follow would have been extremely hard. And
what of yourself, my boy?"
"I, too, have lost all my prospects," Hal answered steadily. "But I am
hardly more than a boy. The world is before me, and I will make my way
in it. This house will be sold, I suppose, and if all the debts cannot
be met, someone will have to wait. It shall be my business to work, make
money, and clear my father's name."
"A resolution to be proud of. Face troubles like a man, and half the
battle is already won," exclaimed the doctor. "But I hope that when all
is sold no debts will remain. Then you will be free to rise solely on
your own account."
He pressed Hal's hand and left the house.
A week passed and found Hal in lodgings in the town, for Mr. Marchant's
house had been sold, and, to Hal's relief, it was ascertained that not a
penny was owing to any man.
"Now for myself," he said as he sat over the fire. "What to do is the
question."
There was a knock at the door, and Mr. Tomkins put his head into the
room. "Hallo!" he said. "Do you feel inclined for a chat?"
"Yes; come in. I'm wondering what to do with myself."
"And so am I," was the answer. "That is, I'm wondering what would be
good for you. How about the foundry? Will you stick to it?"
"On no account," Hal replied. "I could not bear to go there now. In
fact, I mean to leave Birmingham, for it would bring back these last few
days every time I passed the old home. I must work, and pay my way, for
at present I possess fifteen pounds and a few suits of clothes; that is
all."
"I thought you'd not go back to the works," said Mr. Tomkins. "I've been
there boy and man these twenty years, and I've risen to be manager. But
I am leaving with my old master, for I cannot fancy the new. I'm lucky,
too, for I've accepted the post of manager to another foundry in the
north. Come along with me, and I'll see that you get something good."
Hal thanked him, and thought the matter over before answering.
"I scarcely know what to say," he said. "But I am determined to leave
Birmingham. I couldn't stand it."
"It would be rough, I own," Mr. Tomkins said. "But what about coming
north?"
"It is very good of you to suggest it, Tomkins," Hal answered, "but,
before deciding, there is something that I should like to know about. Of
course, I am not very well up in trade affairs, but I do happen to know
that the Americans are very go-ahead in the matter of iron-works. They
undertake bridge-building to a great extent, and I thought that it
might be worth my while to cross the water. I certainly ought to get a
job. They pay well out in America, Tomkins. What do you say to the
plan?"
"Those Yanks are hard at work," he said. "They are go-ahead people, as
you say, and there's no doubt that they can show us a thing or two in
the way of bridges. Yes, anything to do with iron and engineering is
booming across the Atlantic, and there must be lots of openings for
youngsters. There's something else besides. In good old England we're
overcrowded, but in America there's a demand for chaps who know a little
above the ordinary. I should say it would be a good thing, Hal, and if
you decide upon it, the traveling there, and the new life, will rouse
you a bit, and help you to forget present troubles."
"You think well of it," said Hal. "Then I shall go to America and try my
luck. I may as well start as soon as possible, and I wish very
particularly to do so, for while in this city I run the chance of
meeting old friends. Besides, if I went to see any of them, they might
think that I was looking for help, and I want to make a place for
myself."
"And quite right too. Independence is the thing," the manager cried,
patting him on the back. "Now, look here, youngster, are you willing to
rough it from the very commencement? If so, I can help you get to
America."
"Quite," Hal answered promptly.
"Then come along with me to the office of a shipping firm I know.
They've carried many a time for the foundry, and I've only to drop the
manager a hint that you are wanting to get across at the cheapest rate
possible, and I'll be bound he'll arrange."
"I've no cousins or relatives of any sort," he said, "and I've come to
the conclusion that this is the best thing I can do."
"That's good! I'm certain you are doing what is right," Mr. Tomkins
answered.
They went into the street, and within a few minutes were at the shipping
office.
"Good-day, Mr. Tomkins. What can we do for you this time?" asked the
clerk.
"A good deal, if you care. Can we come in behind? I want to speak to you
about my young friend here."
"To be sure," the clerk replied. "Step in. Now, what is it?" he asked.
"I recognize your companion. He is the son of the late Mr. Marchant."
"Quite so; and he wishes to go abroad to America, to make his way in the
world. Can you do anything for him in the way of a cheap passage?"
"He could go for nothing, or rather, could earn a pound and food besides
the berth. But he'd have to rough it."
"I'm ready for that, any day; in fact, I'd like to start right away,"
Hal said, eagerly.
"Then I may as well tell you that there is a vacancy for a greaser
aboard the _Mohican_. Will you take that? There! A passage, your grub,
and a pound at the end of the trip."
"You can put my name down for it," said Hal. "I'll go on the _Mohican_;
and I thank you for your kindness."
"Not at all; it's nothing after the freights we got from your father's
foundry. Good-day, sir; good-day, Tomkins. Excuse me, but I'm very
busy." The clerk nodded in a friendly way, and departed.
"I put that down as a good omen," said Tomkins as they emerged into the
street. "You're in luck, Hal, for right from the commencement you get
what you want. The rest will come just the same, let us hope. Now I'll
leave you, as I have matters to attend to."
He shook Hal's hand and walked up the street.
Hal returned to his rooms, and hunted out his belongings. It was getting
dark as he went into the street with a bundle over his shoulder. He
entered a shop which he had noticed on former occasions, wondering what
class of people patronized it.
"How much for these?" he asked, opening his bundle, and displaying five
suits which he had been in the habit of wearing in Birmingham.
"They're not much good to me," he said. "They're not the class o' togs I
want. Six shillings the lot."
"Six shillings!" said Hal quietly. "They cost four times as many pounds,
and that quite recently. Bid again."
"Six the figure. Not a penny more," exclaimed the man.
"I'll take four pounds for the lot," said Hal.
"You may, but not from me, young man. Good a'ternoon to yer."
"Good-day; I'll go elsewhere," said Hal quietly, and at once did up the
fastenings of his bundle. Then he lifted it, and walked calmly out of
the shop.
"Hold hard there!" cried the man, arresting him at the door. "Let's see
the togs again." He inspected them closely; but it was merely a
pretense, for anyone could see with half an eye that they were really
good. "I'll make it three ten," he said.
"Very well, you can have them," Hal replied, glad to get so good a
price.
Next day he was told that the _Mohican_ would sail on Saturday.
"She's one of the intermediate boats," said the clerk. "Of course, she
carries very few passengers--some thirty in all. You'd better be aboard
on Friday, for she leaves the river early the following day. Good luck
to you."
"And many thanks to you," Hal answered. "I'll do my best to fill the
place you have obtained for me."
Hal took a cheap ticket to Liverpool, and trudged from the station to
the dock in which the _Mohican_ was lying.
Hal picked his way to the wide and slippery gangway, and began to cross
it. A notice above an alleyway caught his eye. "Engineers only," it
said.
He entered the alleyway, and walked along it till he came to a door on
the left, where he knocked.
"Who's there? Come right in," someone cried in a sleepy voice.
Hal entered, and found a big man reclining full length on the settee. He
was dressed in an old uniform, and had a handkerchief tied round his
neck.
"Wall, what aer it?" he asked. "A feller can't no more get ter sleep
upon this hulk than fly. Who aer yer?"
He sat up and surveyed Hal sleepily.
"I'm sorry I roused you. I'm the new hand--the greaser," said Hal.
"Oh, you're the greaser! Wall, yer aint the sort as ships aboard the
_Mohican_ every time. What aer it? Rows with the boss? High jinks at
home? Broke; aint that it?"
"Not quite, but nearly," Hal answered with a smile. "I'm working my
passage."
"So; then you've come to right ship ter do it. But you'd better get to
your quarters; there, along the alleyway. So long, young 'un, and when
yer want a bit of a help, come along to me. I'm Old Yank, the boss of
the engine-room."
Closing the door, Hal went along the alleyway till he came to a large
cabin, above which was painted "Greasers." No one was in, but one of the
bunks had evidently not been appropriated.
"That will do for me," thought Hal. "I'll put my bundle here, and then
have a look round."
Five minutes later he descended the ladder which led to the depths of
the ship. Beneath him was a maze of machinery. Down below were one or
two figures moving about. A wave of hot air ascended, while a loud whir,
caused by the revolving armature of the dynamo, filled the engine-room.
Hal felt somewhat out of his element; but, congratulating himself on the
fact that he had some right to be where he was, he hastened down the
ladder, and dropped to the floor.