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SAM'S CHANCE
And
How He Improved It
by
HORATIO ALGER, JR.
Author of "Facing the World," "Cash Boy," "Do and Dare,"
"Sink or Swim," "Chester Rand," Etc.
New York
Hurst & Company
Publishers
Chapter Title Page
I. Sam's New Clothes. 5
II. Sam's First Day in Business 13
III. Sam Finds A Room 23
IV. First Lessons 32
V. Sam's Finances 42
VI. Sam's Luck 51
VII. Twenty-Five Dollars Reward 60
VIII. An Unexpected Obstacle 69
IX. Restoring the Ring 78
X. Sam's Investment 88
XI. Henry Becomes a Merchant 97
XII. How Sam Succeeded 106
XIII. Henry's Good Fortune 116
XIV. The Savings Bank Book 123
XV. Sam is Found Out 129
XVI. Sam Loses His Place 136
XVII. Tim is Unmasked 146
XVIII. The Fall River Boat 154
XIX. Mutual Confidences 161
XX. Too Late for the Train 165
XXI. Arrived in Boston 172
XXII. First Experiences in Boston 176
XXIII. Sam Finds a Roommate 183
XXIV. An Unpleasant Surprise 191
XXV. In Pursuit of a Place 200
XXVI. Abner Blodgett Again 208
XXVII. Sam is Initiated Into a College Society 216
XXVIII. Brown's Plan 226
XXIX. Arthur Brown 234
XXX. How It was Arranged 242
XXXI. Two Years Later 246
XXXII. Conclusion 251
PREFACE.
"Sam's Chance" is a sequel to the "Young Outlaw," and is designed to
illustrate the gradual steps by which that young man was induced to
give up his bad habits, and deserve that prosperity which he finally
attains. The writer confesses to have experienced some embarrassment
in writing this story. The story writer always has at command
expedients by which the frowns of fortune may be turned into sunshine,
and this without violating probability, or, at any rate, possibility;
for the careers of many of our most eminent and successful men attest
that truth is often-times stranger than fiction. But to cure a boy of
radical faults is almost as difficult in fiction as in real life.
Whether the influences which led to Sam's reformation were adequate to
that result, must be decided by the critical reader. The author may,
at any rate, venture to congratulate Sam's friends that he is now more
worthy of their interest and regard than in the years when he was
known as the "Young Outlaw."
SAM'S CHANCE.
CHAPTER I.
SAM'S NEW CLOTHES.
"If I'm goin' into a office I'll have to buy some new clo'es," thought
Sam Barker.
He was a boy of fifteen, who, for three years, had been drifting about
the streets of New York, getting his living as he could; now blacking
boots, now selling papers, now carrying bundles--"everything by turns,
and nothing long." He was not a model boy, as those who have read his
early history, in "The Young Outlaw," are aware; but, on the other
hand, he was not extremely bad. He liked fun, even if it involved
mischief; and he could not be called strictly truthful nor honest. But
he would not wantonly injure or tyrannize over a smaller boy, and
there was nothing mean or malicious about him. Still he was hardly the
sort of boy a merchant would be likely to select as an office boy, and
but for a lucky chance Sam would have been compelled to remain a
bootblack or newsboy. One day he found, in an uptown street, a little
boy, who had strayed away from his nurse, and, ascertaining where he
lived, restored him to his anxious parents. For this good deed he was
rewarded by a gift of five dollars and the offer of a position as
errand boy, at five dollars a week.
Sam decided that he must have some new clothes before he could enter
upon his place. At present his costume consisted of a ragged shirt,
and a pair of equally ragged pantaloons. Both were of unknown
antiquity, and had done faithful service, not only to Sam, but to a
former owner. It was quite time they were released from duty.
To buy a complete outfit with five dollars might have puzzled many an
able financier. But Sam knew just where to go. Somewhere in the
neighborhood of Baxter Street there was a second-hand clothing
establishment, which he had patronized on previous occasions, and
where he knew that the prices were low. It was to this place that he
bent his steps.
A wrinkled old man--the proprietor--stood outside, scanning, with
cunning eyes, the passers-by. If any one paused to examine his stock,
he was immediately assailed by voluble recommendations of this or that
article, and urgently entreated to "just step inside."
When Sam approached, the old man's shrewdness was at fault. He did not
suspect that the ragged street boy was likely to become a customer,
and merely suffered his glance to rest upon him casually.
But Sam accosted him with a business-like manner.
"Look here, old man, have you got any tiptop clo'es to sell to-day?"
"Yes, my son," answered the old man, with an air of alacrity.
"Who are you a-takin' to? I ain't your son, and I wouldn't be. My
father's a member of Congress."
"Did he send you here to buy clo'es?" asked the old man, with a grin.
"Yes, he did. He said you'd let me have 'em half price."
"So I will, my--boy. This is the cheapest place in the city."
"Well, old man, trot out your best suits. I want 'em in the style, you
know."
"I know that from your looks," said the old man, a grin illumining his
wrinkled face, as he glanced at the rags Sam wore.
"Oh, you needn't look at these. My best clo'es is to home in the
wardrobe. What have you got for shirts?"
A red-flannel article was displayed; but Sam didn't like the color.
"It ain't fashionable," he said.
"Here's a blue one," said the old man.
"That's more like, how much is it?"
"Fifty cents."
"Fifty cents! Do you want to ruin me? I won't give no fifty cents for
a shirt."
"It's worth more. It cost me forty-five."
"I'll give thirty-five."
After some haggling the price was accepted, and the article was laid
aside.
"Now show me some of your nice suits," said Sam. "I've got a place,
and I want to look like a gentleman."
"Have you got any money?" asked the old man, with the momentary
suspicion that he might be throwing his time and trouble away upon a
penniless purchaser.
"Yes," said Sam. "What do you take me for?"
"How much have you got?"
"What do you want to know for?"
"I want to know what clo'es to show you."
Sam was about to answer five dollars, when a shrewd thought changed
his intention.
"I've got four dollars," he said.
Even this was beyond the expectations of the dealer.
"All right, my son," he said. "I'll give you some nice clo'es for four
dollars."
"You'd better if you want me to come here again. If you do well by me
I'll get all my clo'es here."
A young man of fashion could not have spoken more condescendingly, or
with an air of greater importance than Sam. He was right in thinking
that his patronage was of importance to the old man.
"I'll dress you so fine the gals will look at you as you go along the
street," he said.
"Go ahead!" said Sam. "Do your best by me, and I'll send my friends
here."
Without going into details, it may be said that our hero selected
everything to his satisfaction except a coat. Here he was rather
particular. Finally, he espied a blue coat with brass buttons, hanging
in a corner.
"Take down that coat," he said, "I guess that'll suit me."
"That costs too much. I can't give you that and the rest of the things
for four dollars."
"Why can't you?"
"I'd lose too much."
Opposition confirmed Sam in his determination to own it.
"Give it to me; I'll try it on," he said.
Putting it on, he surveyed himself with satisfaction, in a small,
cracked mirror. True, it was about two sizes too large, but Sam felt
that in getting more cloth he was getting a better bargain.
"That's my style," he said. "Don't I look fashionable?"
"I'll have to ask you twenty-five cents more for that coat," said the
old dealer.
"No, you won't."
"Yes, I must. I ought to ask more."
"Then you may keep the rest of the clo'es. I don't want 'em."
Sam made a movement as if to leave the store.
"Give me twenty cents more, my son."
"Didn't I tell you I wasn't your son? I won't give you no twenty
cents, but I'll tell you what I'll do--I'll give you these clo'es I've
got on."
The old man looked at them dubiously.
"They ain't worth much," he said.
"I know they ain't but they're worth twenty cents."
There was another critical inspection, and the decision was given in
Sam's favor.
"You may have the clo'es," said the old man. "Now, where's your
money?"
Sam produced a five-dollar bill.
"Give me a dollar back," he said.
The old man looked at him with the expression of one who had been
cheated.
"You said you had only four dollars," he complained.
"No, I didn't. I said I had four. I didn't say that was all."
"These clo'es are worth five dollars."
"No, they ain't, and you won't get it from me. Do you think I'm going
to give you all the money I've got?"
The old man still looked dissatisfied. "I'm losin' money on these
clo'es," he muttered.
"Oh, well if you don't want to sell 'em, you needn't," said Sam,
independently. "There's another place round the corner."
"Give me four fifty."
"No, I won't. I won't give you another cent. I'll give you four
dollars and these clo'es I have on. A bargain's a bargain. If you're
goin' to do it, say the word; and if you ain't, I'm off."
Sam carried his point, and received back a dollar in change.
"You needn't send the clo'es round to my hotel--I'll change 'em here,"
said our hero.
He set to work at once, and in five minutes the change was effected.
The other clothes fitted him moderately well, but the blue coat--of
the kind popularly called a swallow-tail--nearly trailed upon the
ground. But for that Sam cared little. He surveyed himself with
satisfaction, and felt that he was well dressed.
"I guess I'll do now," he said to himself, complacently, as he walked
out of the shop.