When Tom Calder turned round and saw who had addressed him, he
turned red with mortification, and he tried to hide his blacking
box. He was terribly mortified to have it known that he had been
forced into such a business. If Tom had nothing worse to be ashamed
of he need not have blushed, but he was suffering from false shame.
“When did you come to the city?” he stammered.
“Only this morning.”
“I suppose you are surprised to see me in this business,” said Tom,
awkwardly.
“There is nothing to be ashamed of,” said Grant. “It is an honest
business.”
“It's an awful come down for me,” said Tom, uncomfortably. “The fact
is, I've had hard luck.”
“I am sorry to hear that,” said Grant.
“I expected a place in Wall Street, but I came just too late, and
things are awful dull anyway. Then I was robbed of my money.”
“How much?” asked Grant, curiously, for he didn't believe a word of
it.
“Eight dollars and thirty-three cents,” replied Tom, glibly.
“I thought you were too smart to be robbed,” said Grant, slyly. “If
it had been a green boy from the country like me, now, it wouldn't
have been surprising.”
“I was asleep when I was robbed,” explained Tom, hurriedly. “A
fellow got into my room in the night, and picked my pocket. I
couldn't help that, now, could I?”
“I suppose not.”
“So I had to get something to do, or go back to Colebrook. I say,
Grant---”
“Well?”
“Don't you tell any of the fellers at home what business I'm in,
that's a good fellow.”
“I won't if you don't want me to,” said Grant.
“You see, it's only a few days till I can get something else to do.”
“It's a great deal better blacking boots than being idle, in my
opinion,” said Grant.
“That's the way I look at it. But you didn't tell me what you came
to the city for?”
“I'm coming here for good,” announced Grant.
“You haven't got a place, have you?” ejaculated Tom, in surprise.
“Yes, I am to enter the office of Mr. Reynolds, a stock broker.
There is his sign.”
“You don't say so I. Why, that's just the sort of place I wanted.
How did you get the chance?”
“I got acquainted with Mr. Reynolds on board the cars that day we
came to New York together.”
“And you asked him for the place?”
“I asked him this morning.”
“You might have given me the chance,” grumbled Tom, enviously. “You
knew it was the sort of place I was after.”
“I don't think I was called upon to do that,” said Grant, smiling.
“Besides, he wouldn't have accepted you.”
“Why not? Ain't I as smart as you, I'd like to know?” retorted Tom
Calder, angrily.
“He heard us talking in the cars, and didn't like what you said.”
“What did I say?”
“He doesn't approve of boys smoking cigarettes and going to bucket
shops. You spoke of both.”
“How did he hear?”
“He was sitting just behind us.”
“Was it that old chap that was sittin' with you when I came back
from the smoking car?”
“Yes.”
“Just my luck,” said Tom, ruefully.
“When are you goin' to work?” asked Tom, after a pause.
“Next Monday.”
“Where are you going to board? We might take a room together, you
know. It would be kind of social, as we both come from the same
place.”
It did not occur to Grant that the arrangement would suit him at
all, but he did not think it necessary to say so. He only said: “I
am going to Mr. Reynolds' house, just at first.”
“You don't say so! Why, he's taken a regular fancy to you.”
“If he has, I hope he won't get over it.”
“I suppose he lives in a handsome brownstone house uptown.”
“Very likely; I've never seen the house.”
“Well, some folks has luck, but I ain't one of 'em,” grumbled Tom.
“Your luck is coming, I hope, Tom.”
“I wish it would come pretty soon, then; I say, suppose your folks
won't let you take the place?” he asked, suddenly, brightening up.
“They won't oppose it.” “I thought they wanted you to go to
college.”
“I can't afford it. It would take too long before I could earn
anything, and I ought to be helping the family.”
“I'm goin' to look out for number one,” said Tom, shrugging his
shoulders. “That's all I can do.”
Tom's mother was a hard-working woman, and had taken in washing for
years. But for her the family would often have lacked for food. His
father was a lazy, intemperate man, who had no pride of manhood, and
cared only for himself. In this respect Tom was like him, though the
son had not as yet become intemperate.
“I don't think there is any chance of my giving up the place,”
answered Grant. “If I do, I will mention your name.”
“That's a good fellow.”
Grant did not volunteer to recommend Tom, for he could not have done
so with a clear conscience. This omission, however, Tom did not
notice.
“Well, Tom, I must be going. Good-by, and good luck.”
Grant went home with a cheerful face, and announced his good luck to
his mother.
“I am glad you are going to your employer's house,” she said. “I
wish you could remain there permanently.”
“So do I, mother; but I hope at any rate to get a comfortable
boarding place. Tom Calder wants to room with me.”
“I hope you won't think of it,” said Mrs. Thornton, alarmed.
“Not for a moment. I wish Tom well, but I shouldn't like to be too
intimate with him. And now, mother, I think I ought to write to
Uncle Godfrey, and tell him what I have decided upon.”
“That will be proper, Grant.” Grant wrote the following letter, and
mailed it at once:
“DEAR UNCLE GODFREY:
I am afraid you won't like what I have to tell you, but I think it
is my duty to the family to give up the college course you so kindly
offered me, in view of father's small salary and narrow means. I
have been offered a place in the office of a stock broker in New
York, and have accepted it. I enter upon my duties next Monday
morning. I hope to come near paying my own way, and before very long
to help father. I know you will be disappointed, Uncle Godfrey, and
I hope you won't think I don't appreciate your kind offer, but I
think it would be selfish in me to accept it. Please do forgive me,
and believe me to be
Your affectionate nephew, GRANT THORNTON.”
In twenty-four hours an answer came to this letter. It ran thus:
“NEPHEW GRANT:
I would not have believed you would act so foolishly and
ungratefully. It is not often that such an offer as mine is made to
a boy. I did think you were sensible enough to understand the
advantages of a professional education. I hoped you would do credit
to the name of Thornton, and keep up the family reputation as a man
of learning and a gentleman. But you have a foolish fancy for going
into a broker's office, and I suppose you must be gratified. But you
needn't think I will renew my offer. I wash my hands of you from
this time forth, and leave you to your own foolish course. The time
will come when you will see your folly.
GODFREY THORNTON.”
Grant sighed as he finished reading this missive. He felt that his
uncle had done him injustice. It was no foolish fancy, but a
conscientious sense of duty, which had led him to sacrifice his
educational prospects.
On Monday morning he took the earliest train for New York.