AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE.
After Scott paid his hotel bill and reached his new home, he found that
he had just sixty cents left in his purse. To be sure, he would be at no
more expense for meals, but it made him feel poor.
When he left the ship he had one hundred dollars. There certainly had
been a great shrinkage in his resources.
He was taken by the servant to an inside room on the upper floor. Of
course there was no window, and the only light that entered the room was
from the transom.
It seemed gloomy, and bade fair to be very close. If it had only been an
outside room with a small window, Scott would have been more content. As
it was, he found that the two servants were much better provided for
than he.
The bed, however, was comfortable, and this was a partial compensation.
But he reflected with disappointment that the room would be available
only at night. He could not very well sit in it by day, as it was too
dark for him to read.
"I shall be glad when I get to work," he thought. "That will take up my
time."
Meanwhile, as it was but ten o'clock, it occurred to him that he would
call upon Justin Wood at the Gilsey House. He easily found the hotel,
which is on the corner of Twenty-ninth Street and Broadway.
He did not have to inquire for Mr. Wood, as he saw that gentleman
through the window, sitting in the reading room.
Justin Wood looked up from the paper he was reading and recognized Scott
at once.
"I am glad to see you, my young friend," he said, with a pleasant smile.
"What luck have you had?"
"I have found a place, sir."
"That is good. It hasn't taken you long."
"No, sir."
"I am afraid it isn't a very good place. You don't look in good
spirits."
"No, sir; I am afraid I shan't like it."
"How did you obtain it?"
"Through the relation I was telling you about. He keeps a dry-goods
store on Eighth Avenue, and he will give me a place in his employ."
"Then he has treated you as a relation should."
"I am not so sure," said Scott, slowly. "He took all my money, and I am
to board at his house."
"Why did he take your money?"
"He said I could not earn my board, and that would make up the deficit."
Justin Wood laughed.
"He seems to be a very shrewd man. Still, you will have a good home."
Again Scott looked doubtful, and told his new acquaintance of the small,
dark room which had been assigned him.
"Yet you say that Mr. Little has only a small family."
"He has one son of about my age."
"Surely there ought to be a better room for you if he occupies a whole
house."
"I should think so."
"He might have put you into the same room with his son."
"I don't think I should like to room with Loammi."
"Then you don't like him?"
Scott shook his head.
"We shouldn't agree," he answered.
"Why not?"
"He feels above me because of my poverty."
"The most prominent merchants in the city were once poor boys."
"Then there is hope for me," said Scott, smiling faintly.
"Have you been to your relative's store?"
"Not yet, sir."
"I remember seeing it. It is quite a large one. I think he must be
prosperous."
"I shall be very glad to get to work. I don't know what to do with
myself now. Besides, it makes me feel helpless to have only sixty cents
in my pocket."
"You will have no trouble from the tax collector, that is certain. It is
rather a pity you told Mr. Little how much money you had."
"I wish I hadn't now."
"I don't think I would have treated a poor cousin so if he had come
across the Atlantic to put himself under my charge."
"I am sure you wouldn't, sir."
"What makes you say that? You don't know much about me," said Justin
Wood, with a quiet smile.
"I can tell by your looks."
"Looks are deceptive," remarked the young man; but he looked pleased
with the compliment. "So you don't go to work till Monday?"
"No, sir."
"And I suppose you have nothing to occupy you to-day?"
"No, sir."
"Then be my guest. I will show you something of the city."
"You are very kind," said Scott, gratefully.
"Oh, I shall be repaid. I was wondering what to do with myself. Now the
problem is solved. Wait here a minute till I go up to my room, and we
will start."
They passed through Twenty-ninth Street, and boarded a Sixth Avenue car.
"You have never been to Central Park, I presume," said Wood.
"No, sir. I have only been about in the lower part of the city."
"We think Central Park a very pleasant place," said the young man,
"though in some respects it is not equal to the London parks."
"I like parks. I like green grass and trees. I was born in the
country."
When they reached Fifty-ninth Street they entered the park, and walked
leisurely to the lake. Scott's eyes brightened, and his step grew more
elastic.
"This is fine," he said. "How large is the park?"
"It is about two miles and a half to the extreme northern boundary. We
won't try to see the whole. I will only show you the most attractive
features. You will be surprised when I tell you that I haven't been in
the park for two years."
"Yes, I am surprised."
"I have no carriage, or I should drive here."
"But it is pleasant to walk."
"Yes, if you have a companion. Most of my friends are men of business,
and have no time to spare for park rambles."
"Mr. Wood, I wish you were in business, and I were in your employ," said
Scott, impulsively.
"Thank you, Scott. I do think we should get along well. So you think you
would like me better than your new-found relatives?"
"Oh, ever so much!"
"Then I will try to foster the illusion," said the young man, smiling.
"Suppose I adopt you as a cousin?"
"I wish you would."
"Very well! Then we will look upon each other in that light."
"Do you live in the city, Mr. Wood?"
"I am not stationary anywhere. I have no fixed home."
"Why don't you go into business?"
"Partly because I am blessed with a sufficiency of this world's goods."
"But I should think the time would hang heavy on your hands."
"Well, you see I have something to do in looking after my property.
Besides, I am literary."
"Are you an author?"
"I occasionally write for magazines and reviews. I am a graduate of
Columbia College. If I had the spur of necessity, perhaps I might make
some mark in literature. As it is, I don't have that motive for working
hard. I am rather glad I don't, for I am afraid I shouldn't be able to
live at the Gilsey House if I depended upon what I could earn by my pen.
Well, have you seen enough of Central Park?"
"I am ready to go anywhere else, sir."
"Then I will go with you to the other end of the city and beyond. Have
you ever heard of Staten Island?"
"No, sir."
"It is a few miles to the south of the Battery. I own a small piece of
property there--a couple of houses at New Brighton, which are let to
tenants. They have sent me word that they need some repairs made, and I
may as well go over and see them. I never like to travel alone, and as I
have a companion I may as well utilize his company."
Half an hour on the Sixth Avenue Elevated train brought them from
Fifty-ninth Street to South Ferry. Close beside it the Staten Island
boats started from their pier.
Scott and his companion went on board, and ascended the stairs to the
upper cabin. Here they found seats in front, and sat enjoying the fine
breeze which is almost always to be found on this trip.
Mr. Wood pointed out Governor's Island, the Statue of Liberty and other
notable sights.
Arrived at Staten Island, they took cars to New Brighton. Mr. Wood
attended to his business, and then took Scott on an extended ride
around the island. But first he stopped at a hotel and ordered dinner.
This they both enjoyed.
When they left the dining room and went out on the piazza they were
treated to a surprise. In an armchair, tilted back, with his feet on the
balustrade, sat Crawford Lane, evidently enjoying the fine breeze.