Mr. Crabb and Hector were sitting side by side in a railroad car,
speeding away from Smith Institute. In the heart of each was a feeling
of relief, which increased as each minute carried them farther away from
the school.
“Hector,” said the usher, looking younger and happier than his pupil had
ever known him, “I feel like a free man now. It is a feeling that I have
not had since I first set foot in Smith Institute.”
“I think you will lead a happier life in New York, Mr. Crabb.”
“I am sure of it. Thanks to your considerate kindness, I shall for the
first time earn an ample salary, and even be able to lay up money. Is my
future pupil about your age?”
“He is a year younger.”
“Where did you make his acquaintance?”
“At Saratoga, My father and I spent two months at Congress Hall two
summers ago, and as Walter’s family were also there, we naturally got to
be friends. He is a capital fellow, and you will be sure to like him.”
“I am ready to like him after reading that letter he wrote you. Is he
fond of study?”
“That is his weak point,” said Hector, laughing. “Walter was never
cut out for a scholar. I don’t mean, of course, that he hasn’t fair
capacity, but his taste doesn’t lie that way. However, he won’t give you
any trouble, only you won’t succeed as well as you may wish in pushing
him on.”
“All boys are not cut out for scholars,” said the usher. “Now you,
Hector, would do excellently, and might hope to make a very successful
professional man.”
Hector shook his head.
“I must look to a different career,” he said. “I am to be the architect
of my own fortune, you know.”
“What are your plans, Hector?” asked the usher.
“I will consult with Mr. Boss, Walter’s father. By the way, he knows
nothing of the change in my circumstances. He supposes me to be the heir
to the Roscoe estate.”
“Trouble has come upon you early, Hector. Should you need help
hereafter, you must remember that I am earning a good salary and--”
“Thank you, Mr. Crabb,” gratefully, “but you will need all you earn. I
don’t look upon my loss of fortune as a trouble. I think it will make me
more manly and self-reliant, and stimulate me to exertion. I have a fair
education, and I am sure I can earn my living in some honest way.”
“If that is your spirit, Hector, I am sure you will succeed. You are
young and hopeful. I am too much inclined to despond. I have always been
timid about the future. It is a matter of temperament.”
It was early in the afternoon when they reached New York. As they
emerged from the depot a bright-faced boy came up eagerly and greeted
them.
“How are you, Hector?” he said. “You see, I came to meet you. I have
been longing to have you come.”
“I am just as glad to see you, Walter,” said Hector, heartily. “Mr.
Crabb, here is your future pupil, Walter Boss.”
“I hope we may soon be friends, Walter,” said the usher, attracted by
the bright, sunny face of the boy.
Walter gave the usher his hand.
“I hope so, too,” he said, smiling. “I’ll try not to worry you any more
than I can help.”
“I have no misgivings,” said Mr. Crabb, as he mentally contrasted his
new pupil with Jim Smith, and two or three others at the institute, who
had been a frequent source of trouble and annoyance.
“Here is the carriage,” said Walter, pointing out a plain but handsome
carriage waiting outside. “Bundle in, both of you! I beg your pardon,
Mr. Crabb, for my familiarity. That was intended for Hector.”
“I am ready to be classed with Hector,” said Mr. Crabb.
“I am glad to hear you say so. I was afraid you would be stiff and
dignified.”
“I think I shall take my cue from you.”
“Oh, my rule is, go as you please. Edward, drive home!”
The house occupied by Mr. Boss was a fine brown-stone dwelling on
Forty-second Street. Arrived there, Mr. Crabb was shown into a spacious
chamber, on the third floor, furnished with a luxury to which the poor
usher was quite unaccustomed.
“Now, Hector, you can have a room to yourself, or you may share my den,”
said Walter.
“I would rather share the den,” said Hector.
“That’s what I hoped. You see, we shall have ever so much to say to each
other. We haven’t seen each other for over a year.”
A slight shade of gravity overspread Hector’s face. Since he had met his
friend, his father had died, and he had been reduced from the heir of
wealth to a penniless orphan. Of this last change Walter knew nothing,
but Hector did not mean long to leave him in ignorance.
At dinner the two newcomers saw Mr. Ross, from whom they received a
friendly welcome. The usher was put at his ease at once.
“I hope you’ll get along with my boy,” said the bluff city merchant. “Of
one thing you may be assured, your scholarship won’t be severely taxed
in educating him. Walter is a pretty good boy, but he isn’t a prodigy of
learning.”
“I may be some day, father,” said Walter, “with Mr. Crabb’s help.”
“I take it Mr. Crabb isn’t able to perform miracles,” said Mr. Ross,
good-humoredly. “No, Mr. Crabb, I shan’t expect too much of you. Get
your pupil on moderately fast, and I shall be satisfied. I am glad,
Hector, that you were able to pay Walter a visit at this time.”
“So am I, sir.”
“I thought you might not be able to leave your studies.”
“I have given up study, sir.”
“I am surprised at that, Hector. I thought you contemplated going to
college.”
“So I did, sir, but circumstances have changed my plans.”
“Indeed!”
“Yes, sir; I will explain after dinner, and will ask your advice.”
Mr. Ross dropped the subject, and after dinner led the way to the
library, where he sank into an armchair, and, breathing a sigh of
satisfaction, said: “This, Mr. Crabb, is the most enjoyable part of the
twenty-four hours for me. I dismiss business cares and perplexities, and
read my evening paper, or some new book, in comfort.”
As the usher looked about him and saw costly books, engravings,
furniture and pictures, he could well understand that in such
surroundings the merchant could take solid comfort. It was a most
agreeable contrast to the plain and poverty-stricken room at Smith
Institute, where the boys pursued their evening studies under his
superintendence.
“Well, Hector, so you don’t propose to go back to school,” said the
merchant. “Isn’t that rather a sudden resolution?”
“Yes, sir; but, as I said, circumstances have changed.”
“What circumstances? Because you are rich, you don’t think you ought to
be idle, I hope?”
“Oh, no, sir. It is because I have discovered that I am not rich.”
“Not rich! I always understood that your father left a large estate,”
said Mr. Ross, in surprise.
“So he did, sir.”
“Didn’t it descend to you?”
“I thought so till recently.”
“Why don’t you think so now?”
In answer, Hector told the story of the revelation made to him by Allan
Roscoe, after his father’s death.
“You see, therefore,” he concluded, “that I am penniless, and a
dependent upon Mr. Allan Roscoe’s generosity.”
“This is a most extraordinary story!” said the merchant, after a pause.
“Yes, sir; it changes my whole future.”
“I suppose Mr. Allan Roscoe is the beneficiary, and the estate goes to
him?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Did your father--the late Mr. Roscoe--ever hint to you anything which
could lead you to suspect that you were not his own, but an adopted
son?”
“Never, Mr. Ross,” answered Hector, with emphasis.
“Did he continue to treat you with affection.”
“Always. Nothing in his manner ever would have led me to imagine that I
was not his own son.”
“He left no will?”
“No, sir.”
“What are your plans?”
“I do not wish to remain dependent upon Allan Roscoe. I should like to
obtain a situation of some kind in the city, if I can.”
“I can probably serve you, then, after a while. For the present, stay
here as Walter’s companion.”
“Thank you, sir; I should like nothing better.”