“Hector,” said Mr. Crabb, nervously, “I am going to leave the institute
at the end of the week.”
“Have you secured another situation, Mr. Crabb?” asked Hector,
hopefully.
“No,” answered the usher, shaking his head. “I have been discharged.”
“For what reason?”
“For interfering with Mr. Smith’s nephew when he was brutally abusing
Wilkins.”
“Did Mr. Smith fully understand the circumstances?”
“Yes; but he stands by his nephew right or wrong. He blamed me for
checking his nephew’s brutality.”
“This is shameful!” said Hector, warmly. “May I ask, Mr. Crabb, if you
have formed any plans?”
“No, except to seek a new position!” answered Crabb. “I fear,” he
added, despondently, “that it may be some time before I am so fortunate.
Roscoe, I don’t know what to do when I leave the school. I shall barely
have five dollars, and you know I have not only myself, but another to
support.”
“Keep up your courage, Mr. Crabb! It is nearly time for me to hear from
the friend in New York to whom I wrote is your behalf. If you can secure
the position of his private tutor--”
“If I can, I will hail it as providential. It will relieve me at once
from all anxiety.”
“I don’t think I shall long remain here myself, Mr. Crabb,” said
Hector. “I came here with the full intention of making the most of the
facilities the institute affords for education, but I find the principal
incompetent, and disposed to connive at injustice and brutality. The
only good I have got here has been derived from your instructions.”
“Thank you, Roscoe. Such a tribute is, indeed, welcome,” said the usher,
warmly.
“It is quite sincere, Mr. Crabb, and I hope my good wishes may bring you
the advantage which I have in view.”
“Thank you, Roscoe. I don’t blame you for being disgusted with the
management of the school. You have yourself suffered injustice.”
“Yes; in writing home, and charging me with theft, before he had
investigated the circumstances, Mr. Smith did me a great injustice. I
doubt whether he has since written to correct the false charge, as
I required him to do. If not, I shall owe it to myself to leave the
school.”
“You will be justified in doing so.” The next day brought Hector two
letters. One was from Allan Roscoe, and read as follows:
“HECTOR: I have received from your worthy teacher a letter which has
filled me with grief and displeasure. I knew you had great faults, but
I did not dream that you would stoop so low as to purloin money, as it
seems you have done. Mr. Smith writes me that there is no room to doubt
your guilt. He himself discovered in the pocket of your pantaloons a
wallet containing a large sum of money, which he had missed only a short
time before. He learned that you had entered his chamber, and taken the
money, being tempted by your own dishonest and depraved heart.
“I cannot express the shame I feel at this revelation of baseness. I
am truly glad that you are not connected with me by blood. Yet I cannot
forget that my poor brother treated you as a son; and took pains to
train you up in right ideas. It would give him deep pain could he know
how the boy whom he so heaped with benefits has turned out! I may say
that Guy is as much shocked as I am, but he, it seems, had a better
knowledge of you than I; for he tells me he is not surprised to hear it.
I confess I am, for I thought better of you.
“Under the circumstances I shall not feel justified in doing for you as
much as I intended. I proposed to keep you at school for two years more,
but I have now to announce that this is your last term, and I advise you
to make the most of it. I will try, when the term closes, to find some
situation for you, where your employer’s money will not pass through
your hands. ALLAN ROSCOE.”
Hector read the letter with conflicting feelings, the most prominent
being indignation and contempt for the man who so easily allowed himself
to think evil of him.
The other letter he found more satisfactory.
It was from his young friend in New York, Walter Boss. As it is short, I
subjoin it:
“DEAR HECTOR: I am ever so glad to hear from you, but I should like much
better to see you. I read to papa what you said of Mr. Crabb, and he
says it is very apropos, as he had made up his mind to get me a tutor.
I am rather backward, you see, not having your taste for study, and papa
thinks I need special attention. He says that your recommendation is
sufficient, and he will engage Mr. Crabb without any further inquiry;
and he says he can come at once. He will give him sixty dollars a month
and board, and he will have considerable time for himself, if he wants
to study law or any other profession. I don’t know but a cousin may join
me in my studies, in which case he will pay a hundred dollars per month,
if that will be sastisfactory.
“Why can’t you come and make me a visit? We’ll have jolly fun. Come
and stay a month, old chap. There is no one I should like better. Your
friend, WALTER Boss.”
Hector read this letter with genuine delight. It offered a way of
escape, both for the unfortunate usher and himself. Nothing could be
more “apropos” to quote Walter’s expression.
Our hero lost no time in seeking out Mr. Crabb.
“You seem in good spirits, Roscoe,” said the usher, his careworn face
contrasting with the beaming countenance of his pupil.
“Yes, Mr. Crabb, I have reason to be, and so have you.”
“Have you heard from your friend?” asked the usher, hopefully.
“Yes, and it’s all right.”
Mr. Crabb looked ten years younger.
“Is it really true?” he asked.
“It is true that you are engaged as private tutor to my friend, Walter.
You’ll find him a splendid fellow, but I don’t know if the pay is
sufficient,” continued Hector, gravely.
“I am willing to take less pay than I get here,” said the usher, “for
the sake of getting away.”
“How much do you receive here?”
“Twenty dollar a month and board. I might, perhaps, get along on a
little less,” he added doubtfully.
“You won’t have to, Mr. Crabb. You are offered sixty dollars a month and
a home.”
“You are not in earnest, Roscoe?” asked the usher, who could not believe
in his good fortune.
“I will read you the letter, Mr. Crabb.”
When it was read the usher looked radiant. “Roscoe,” he said, “you come
to me like an angel from heaven. Just now I was sad and depressed; now
it seems to me that the whole future is radiant. Sixty dollars a month!
Why, it will make me a rich man.”
“Mr. Crabb,” said Hector, with a lurking spirit of fun, “can you really
make up your mind to leave Smith Institute, and its kind and benevolent
principal?”
“I don’t think any prisoner ever welcomed his release with deeper
thankfulness,” said the usher. “To be in the employ of a man whom you
despise, yet to feel yourself a helpless and hopeless dependent on him
is, I assure you, Roscoe, a position by no means to be envied. For two
years that has been my lot.”
“But it will soon be over.”
“Yes, thanks to you. Why can’t you accompany me, Hector? I ought not,
perhaps, to draw you away, but--”
“But listen to the letter I have received from my kind and considerate
guardian, as he styles himself,” said Hector.
He read Allan Roscoe’s letter to the usher.
“He seems in a great hurry to condemn you,” said Mr. Crabb.
“Yes, and to get me off his hands,” said Hector, proudly. “Well, he
shall be gratified in the last. I shall accept Walter’s invitation, and
we will go up to New York together.”
“That will, indeed, please me. Of course, you will undeceive your
guardian.”
“Yes. I will get Wilkins and Platt to prepare a statement of the facts
in the case, and accompany it by a note releasing Mr. Roscoe from any
further care or expense for me.”
“But, Hector, can you afford to do this?”
“I cannot afford to do otherwise, Mr. Crabb. I shall find friends, and I
am willing to work for my living, if need be.”
At this point one of the boys came to Mr. Crabb with a message from
Socrates, desiring the usher to wait upon him at once.