A DECOY LETTER.
One day Nelson was folding some evening papers at the stand when, on
glancing up, he saw Homer Bulson standing not far away eyeing him
sharply.
"Hullo, what does he want now?" thought our hero.
Bulson waited until several customers had received papers and departed,
and then came closer.
"How is trade?" he asked, in as pleasant a voice as he could command.
"Very good," returned Nelson coolly.
"I presume you do better with the stand than you did selling papers on
the street."
"Much better."
"I am glad to hear it."
To this Nelson made no reply, for he felt certain that Homer Bulson was
playing the part of a hypocrite.
"He wants to find out about Gertrude," he told himself.
"How is Miss Horton making out these days?" went on the young man.
"She is doing nicely."
"Is she working?"
"She gives piano lessons."
"Humph! she can't make much at that."
"She make enough to keep her."
"If she wouldn't be so headstrong she might have a comfortable home
without working."
"She intends to do as she pleases," replied Nelson sharply. "And she
doesn't ask you for advice."
"Where is she living now?"
"You'll have to find that out for yourself."
"Her uncle wants to know."
"Then let him write to her and address the letter to the general
post-office."
"Does she go there for her letters?"
"No; somebody goes for her."
At this Homer Bulson bit his lip in increased vexation.
"What rot all this is!" he cried. "I'm not going to eat her up."
"You're right there," grinned Nelson. "We won't let you. The best you
can do is to leave her alone. If you don't somebody will get hurt."
"Ha! do you threaten me?"
"You can take the warning as you please."
"Boy, you are a fool!"
"If I am, I am too smart a fool to be taken in by you, Mr. Homer
Bulson."
"I want to help Miss Horton."
"You want to harm her, you mean."
"Then you won't tell me where she lives?"
"No. And let me add, if you find out and try to harm her you'll get
hurt."
"Oh, you make me tired," muttered Bulson, and walked away.
Everything seemed to be against the young man, but two days later his
luck--if such it can be called--changed.
He was walking along a fashionable side street, when on chancing to look
ahead he saw Gertrude leave a house and hurry to the corner.
He started to follow her, but before he could reach her she had boarded
a street car and was out of his reach.
Going back to the house he met a girl of twelve coming out on the stone
stoop.
"Good-afternoon," he said politely. "Am I right about seeing Miss Horton
just coming from here?"
"You are," answered the girl. "She's just been giving me a music
lesson."
"Oh, so she gives music lessons here. Does she teach anybody else in
the neighborhood?"
"Yes; she teaches on the block above here and around on the avenue." And
the girl gave the names and addresses.
Homer Bulson made a note of the names and addresses and walked off in
high satisfaction.
"Now to work my little scheme," he said to himself.
Two days later he left New York and took a train at Jersey City for
Lakewood, down in New Jersey.
At the fashionable resort he managed to find a house on the outskirts of
the town. It was owned and kept by an old woman, who was more than half
deaf.
To this old woman, whose name was Sarah Higgins, Bulson told a long
story of a cousin who was a little crazy and who wanted absolute rest.
"She is harmless, excepting for her tongue," said Bulson. "I would like
to bring her here for several months. If you will take her, I will give
you twenty-five dollars a week for your trouble."
Sarah Higgins was a natural-born miser, and she readily consented to
take the young lady and watch her.
"I've taken care of them as is out of their mind before," she said. "I
know how to treat 'em."
Homer Bulson's next move was to write a long letter to Gertrude. This
letter was signed with the name of a fashionable lady of society, and
ran as follows:
"DEAR MISS HORTON: Perhaps you will be surprised to receive this
from me, a stranger, but Mrs. Jackson has been speaking to me about
you, and the good lessons you are giving her daughter Belle.
"My husband used to know your father well, and the pair were warm
friends, and he joins me in making this offer to you.
"I have three children, two girls and a boy, and I wish to obtain a
music-teacher for them who will not only give lessons, but also
take a personal interest in the little ones. There is nobody here
at Lakewood who is suitable, and I wish to know if we cannot
arrange to have you come down every Wednesday or Thursday? I will
pay your carfare and give you five dollars per week for the
lessons. Of course you can also have lunch with me.
"I think you will find this a good opening for you, and perhaps we
can get you more pupils here. Please call upon me next Wednesday
afternoon, and we can then talk it over and complete arrangements.
"Yours truly,
"MRS. JAMES BROADERICK."
The letter came as a complete surprise to Gertrude, and she scarcely
knew what to make of it.
Of course, as was natural, she felt much pleased. A trip to Lakewood
each week would be delightful, and five dollars would add quite
something to her income.
The letter reached her on Tuesday morning, so she had not long to
consider it. That noon she met Gladys and told her she was going to
Lakewood on business the following morning, on the early train.
"Lakewood!" cried the flower girl.
"Yes. What makes you look so surprised, Gladys?"
"I didn't think you'd leave New York."
"I shall only be gone for the day. There is a lady there who wants me to
give lessons to her three children."
"Oh!"
"She will pay well, and the trip each week will be quite an outing."
"It will be cold traveling this winter, I'm thinking."
"Lakewood is a famous winter resort now. The hotels are fine, so I've
been told."
"Does the lady live at a hotel?"
"No; she has a private cottage near by--so her letter says."
"Well, I wish you luck," said Gladys, and so the pair parted.