HAL OBTAINS ANOTHER SITUATION.
For a moment there was silence, and then Horace Sumner stopped short
before Hal.
"There is another matter I might mention," he said. "Caleb Allen is
going, or rather, has gone, into business for himself."
"What kind of business?" asked the youth, in surprise.
"A brokerage and loan office."
"Near here?"
"Yes, right around the corner of Broad Street, not five minutes, walk.
He hired the place from the first, and I understand he and another man
are already doing business there."
"Who is the other man?"
"A fellow named Parsons."
"Has he a good reputation?"
"Far from it. He was arrested for forgery five years ago, but his
friends hushed the matter up."
"Have you the number of the place?"
"Yes, here it is. What do you intend to do?"
"I don't know. I'll take a look at the place. That will do no harm.
Perhaps Hardwick will call on Mr. Allen."
After a few words more Hal left the private office, and passed out on
Wall Street.
He soon turned the corner into Broad Street, the second great money
center of New York, and presently came to the building in which was
situated the offices now occupied by the firm of Allen & Parsons.
The offices were down three steps, and as Hal passed on the pavement
above, a small sign pasted in the corner of the window attracted his
attention:
YOUNG MAN WANTED. RAPID WRITER.
Stopping short, Hal descended the steps, and peered into the window. A
middle-aged man stood at the front desk, smoking a cigar and writing.
"That must be either Mr. Parsons or a book-keeper," thought Hal.
Then a sudden determination sprang up in his mind. Without a second
thought he entered the office and walked up to the desk.
The man looked up, and laid down his cigar.
"Well, sir, what is it?" he asked, in a pleasant voice.
"Is this one of the proprietors?"
"Yes, I am Mr. Parsons."
"I see you want a young man, sir."
"We do." Most of the pleasantness vanished, and a sharp look came to the
man's face. "You are looking for a situation?"
"Yes, sir."
"Are you a good writer?"
"I will show you my hand, sir?"
"All right. Here is paper and ink. Write a sheetful as rapidly as you
can do so in good style."
Hal took up the pen. He was really a rapid writer, and in five minutes
the job was done. Parsons looked at the work.
"That might do. Have you any recommendations?"
"No, sir. I am a stranger in New York."
"Ah, a stranger." A certain pleased look came into the broker's eyes.
"What's your idea of salary?"
"I hardly know. I must support myself."
"All alone?"
"Yes, sir."
Parsons appeared better pleased than ever.
"Just the kind of a fellow Allen and I want," he muttered to himself.
"I will give you a trial on seven dollars a week, and, if you suit, I
will raise you to eight."
"Thank you, sir."
"What is your name?"
"Frank Hallen," replied Hal, using the cognomen of one of his poor-house
associates.
"Very well, Hallen. Are you ready to go to work at once?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then come inside."
Hal walked behind the railing, and Parsons showed him where to place his
coat and hat.
"Here is a copy of a letter I wish duplicated ten times. You can go to
work at this second desk. At one o'clock you can take half an hour for
lunch."
"Yes, sir."
Hal gathered his material about him, and went to work as if his very
life depended on it.
"He seems to be an awfully shrewd man," he thought, meaning Parsons. "I
wonder what he would say if he knew I had taken the job merely as a
blind?"
He could not help but smile to himself, and Parsons saw the smile, but
misinterpreted it.
"He feels good over dropping into a situation, I suppose," he muttered.
"Well, if he's a stranger in New York and alone, he is probably just the
fellow for Allen's work. It won't do to have a chap around who is too
well acquainted."
Hal had made four copies of the letter when the front door opened, and
Caleb Allen entered.
The broker looked rather surprised when he saw Hal, but he did not
recognize the youth, and Hal drew a deep sigh of relief.
"Got a clerk, eh?" said Allen, to his new partner.
"Yes," replied Parsons. "Hallen, this is Mr. Allen, your other
employer."
Hal bowed. Then Allen turned to an office in the rear, and Parsons
immediately followed him.
The door, which was partly of ground glass, was tightly closed.
Hal waited for an instant, and then, leaving the desk, tiptoed his way
to the rear.
By listening intently, he could just catch what was said.
"You say he is a stranger in New York?" were the first words he heard,
coming from Allen.
"Yes."
"Humph! He will have a job finding his way around, I'm thinking."
"He looks bright enough. I thought it would be better than to hire
somebody who knew too much about financial matters here," returned
Parsons.
"That's so!" cried Allen. "A good idea. Has Samuels called yet?"
"No."
"He ought to be here by this time."
"Samuels is always slow. But tell me, how did you make out over at the
old place?"
"We had a deuce of a racket," exclaimed Allen, savagely. "Since Hardwick
was found out Sumner has watched me like a cat."
"Of course, you didn't give him any satisfaction."
"Not much! But I can tell you I had to talk mighty smooth to keep things
down."
"How about dissolving?"
"The affair comes off on the twentieth."
"What! Can you get ready by that time?"
"Luckily, yes."
"Are you going to do as I suggested about those slips?"
"Yes. I was just after the boy who ordered them for me, and he says they
are to be done in two days, sure. It won't take an hour to fix them up
after I get them."
"Nothing like being a slick penman, Caleb."
And Parsons chuckled.
"Hush! That new man might hear you."
"That's so. But I fancy he's rather green, in spite of the fact that he
wants to appear like a New Yorker."
"If he's green, so much the better. Now, about this business with
Samuels. Do you think he can be trusted?"
"Yes. I know Samuels thoroughly, and, besides, I have a hold on him."
"A good hold?"
"I could send him to prison if I wished."
"And he will undertake to work off the bonds in Chicago?"
"I believe so. But he wants big pay."
"How much?"
"Twenty per cent."
"Twenty per cent.!" cried Allen. "Is he crazy?"
"He says he will run a big risk."
"Any more than Hardwick and I ran in obtaining them?"
"No, indeed. Perhaps you can make him come down."
"I certainly shall. Hardwick hasn't shown up, has he?"
"No. Do you expect him?"
"Yes."
"Is it prudent? Old Sumner may have his detectives around."
"I thought of that, and wrote to Hardwick about it. Hereafter he will
disguise himself, and----"
Hal heard no more. The front door opened, and a stranger hurried in.