BEGUILED.
TOM met his new friend the next morning, who was still in very high
spirits over his good fortune, and offered to show Tom where to go
to spend an evening merrily. But this offer Tom declined, for he had
promised his mother before leaving home that he would take care to go
back to his aunt as soon as his work was over, and he meant to keep his
word—at least, until he knew more about London than he did at present.
He took care not to go to Fleet Street again at dinner time for fear he
should be late, for his uncle had warned him about this when he heard
where he had been. But Randall did not press him to go again, they had
their dinner and strolled out for a little while, Randall showing him
St. Paul's Cathedral, and pointing out the General Post Office, and
several other large buildings.
In this way the lads grew more intimate, and when they went home
together in the evening, Randall showed him the six shillings he had
won on Drizzle. Of course, Tom wished he could win some money as
easily, and Randall promised to tell him when he heard of a good thing.
"Mind you, I don't do as some fellows do," went on the boy, "put money
on every race they hear of, I just wait till I can find out about a
horse, and then I plank my money down upon it."
But Tom began to get tired of the horsey talk and Randall's wisdom
before they parted, for he would have liked to talk about Dick and his
home, if he could only have found some one to listen to his story.
His aunt's house seemed very lonely to him; not at all like the
pleasant home he had been used to all his life. His uncle did not get
home until late in the evening, and his aunt, who was not used to
boys, sat and watched him for fear he should scrape his feet on the
chair-rails, or push it when he moved instead of lifting it, and so
wear out the carpet, for they had tea in the little back parlour, and
she was very careful of the furniture, lest it should be spoiled.
"Hadn't you better go to bed now?" she would say to Tom about eight
o'clock.
And Tom went; but he did not like it much, though it was dull to sit
and watch his aunt at her sewing, or tease the cat, which seemed all
the amusement he could find. He was not very fond of reading, and if he
had been, there were no books about here for him to read, so he went to
bed at eight o'clock the first week of his stay.
But when he had been there a fortnight, and had learned his way about
the neighbouring streets and roads, he thought he might as well go out
for a walk after tea, as sit and look at his aunt, and his proposal to
do this seemed rather to please her.
"Yes, you can go out for an hour, if you like, only don't lose
yourself, and mind you get home before your uncle comes in."
"All right," said Tom, smiling at the idea of losing himself now, for
he had taken careful note of the different turnings, and as his uncle
rarely got home before ten o'clock, there would be plenty of time for
him to go for a long walk.
The street where his aunt lived opened into a broad, busy road with
large, well-lighted shops, and of course Tom made his way there at
once, sticking his hands in his pockets, for the evenings were chilly.
When he got there he was at a loss which way to turn, for although he
knew the road leading to the City, he did not want to go that way now,
but to vary his walk if he could. So he stood at the corner looking up
and down the street, undecided which way to take, when a lad about his
own age came sauntering towards him.
"Fine night," he remarked, as he halted beside Tom. "Are you out for a
stroll?"
"Yes, I came out for a walk, but I hardly know which way to go,"
replied Tom, looking at the stranger to see if he had ever spoken to
him before.
He did not recognise him, but he looked a respectable lad, and so, when
he proposed they should go along the road together, Tom cheerfully
assented, for any company was better than none, he thought.
"Beastly place London is," said his new friend when they had exchanged
a few words, in which he detected that Tom had recently come from the
country.
"Don't you like it?" asked Tom, in some surprise, for this long row of
lighted shops, and the pleasant bustle of the street was almost like
fairyland to him.
His new friend made a wry face, but did not reply immediately to his
question.
"Things are pretty dull here sometimes, and there is no friendliness
among people like there is in the country. You look at your neighbour
as though he was a wild beast bent upon eating you up, and so you are
afraid to speak to him."
Tom laughed. "I don't think I am much afraid of strangers," he said,
"or I should not be walking with you."
"Ah! That just shows you have not been here long enough to get spoiled.
I knew at once by the friendly look in your face that you had not been
here long. Come up to get a place in some office, I suppose?" said his
new friend, looking at him curiously.
"I have got a place," replied Tom. "My uncle has lived in London for
years and years, and he got me a place, and I live with him."
His companion gave a prolonged whistle. "I wonder he hadn't told you
never to talk to strangers when you came out for a walk," he said.
"He doesn't know I am out," replied Tom. "I'm not a baby, either, that
is likely to lose its way, so aunt said I might come out for an hour if
I liked."
"Sensible old lady, I am much obliged to her, for I wanted a companion
for a walk, and so I am glad to meet you. Two country chaps like us
ought to be friends, you know."
"Yes, of course," said Tom, glad to meet with a friend from the
country. "What part of the country do you come from?" he asked the next
minute.
"Well, I was at Newmarket last," said his new friend.
"Newmarket," repeated Tom; "why, that is where they have horse-racing,
isn't it?"
"What do you know about horse-racing?" said the other quickly. "I
thought you said you had only been in London a fortnight."
"Isn't that long enough to learn about it?" said Tom, who was
determined not to let this lad think he was altogether ignorant of
London life and ways. "Perhaps you think I don't know that Drizzle won
the race there about a fortnight ago," he added with a knowing nod, and
thrusting his hands deeper into his pockets.
His companion was certainly surprised, and looked it as he said, "Well,
you haven't been long learning the ropes, certainly. What did you put
on Drizzle?" he asked.
"Nothing; but a friend of mine turned in a nice little bit." He would
not mention the amount, for he had an idea that this new friend would
not regard six shillings as an overwhelming fortune.
"Well, look here, don't you venture to put money on a horse like
Drizzle," said his companion oracularly. "If some of the others had not
been pulled, she would have come in last instead of first, and then
where would your money have been?" he asked in a tone of triumph, which
seemed to imply that he knew more about such matters than Tom could
tell him.
Tom looked puzzled, but at last he said, "Of course, if you have lived
at Newmarket, you know all about it."
"I hope I know better than to put money on a horse like Drizzle," said
the other in a tone of contempt.
"Where do you work?" asked Tom, thinking he ought to take Randall to
see this friend who knew so much about horses.
"Well, I'm not doing any regular work just now. Can't get anything to
suit me exactly. But then I need not be in a hurry for a time, you see."
"Then you don't go to the City every day?" said Tom.
"No, not every day. I go sometimes, of course, and I could meet you
there now and then, if you liked."
Tom supposed his new friend was staying with relatives, and rather
envied him. They walked about together for an hour or two, and then Tom
said he must go home. His companion pressed him to stay longer, but
Tom said he must go, although he was rather loth to part with such an
entertaining companion.
The talk about horses had branched off into talk about cards, and Tom's
amazement was great when he found that his new friend could tell him
all about the games that were generally played, and when he assured
him that money was often made on cards, especially if anybody knew the
games well.
He went home at last thoroughly impressed with his new friend's wisdom,
and thinking how lucky he was to have met him. He had promised to meet
him again the following evening, and he went home in high spirits,
thinking what he should have to tell Randall and Bob when he met them
in the morning. It was nearly nine o'clock when he got home, but his
aunt did not say anything about the time, only told him to get a piece
of bread out of the cupboard, and eat it in the kitchen, if he wanted
any supper.
Tom took the bread, for he was hungry, but he did not care much about
it, for there was always plenty of home-made jam or honey from their
own hives at home, and to eat dry bread for any meal had been looked
upon as a punishment, and, besides, he thought his aunt might have
given a bit of cheese with the bread.
But he did not say anything about it, he ate it and went to bed to
dream of horses and his new friend.
He told Randall about Drizzle being a roarer, and how nearly he had
lost his money; but he did not seem as much impressed as Tom expected
to see him.
"You always have to take risks, of course," he said loftily; "and I
should mind what I was about with a fellow you know nothing of."
Tom laughed, for Randall's words and manner so exactly bore out what
his new friend said about London boys, that he felt rather glad he
was above such narrow prejudices and suspicions. "I wasn't born on a
Thursday," he said, quoting his own proverb.
"Thursday or Friday, you'd better look out," said Randall.
"You don't like your favourite horse being called a roarer."
"Oh, bother the horse; Drizzle can take care of himself, if you can,"
said the other. He felt rather nettled that Tom should presume to give
him advice upon this matter, and for the next day or two they were
rather cool to each other.
But Tom continued to meet his new friend after tea, and they generally
went for a long walk together. The time of Tom's return home getting a
few minutes later each night, until at last his uncle got home first,
and the clock had struck ten before he knocked at the door.
Of course his uncle wanted to know where he had been, and who he had
spent the evening with, but to his own surprise, Tom could tell very
little concerning his companion. He had been told to call him Jack, but
he did not know where he lived; and so far as he knew he did not do any
work, so that his uncle's questions revealed to him the fact that while
he had given his new friend every scrap of information about himself
and his home, and his employers, he really knew nothing of him beyond
the fact that his name was Jack, that he was a pleasant spoken lad, and
seemed to have plenty of money to spend, for he generally bought cakes
for Tom and himself during the evening.
All this was told to Mr. Flowers when he pressed Tom with questions,
but as there seemed to be no occasion for forbidding the acquaintance,
his uncle only warned him to be careful and not to stay out after nine
o'clock at night.
Perhaps if he had enquired a little further, and asked what they found
to talk about, he might not have been so easy about the matter. For
this new friend of Tom's had succeeded in making him believe that there
was more than one short but to making money, if he could only discover
it; as though to make money and not to give honest work and service was
the whole end for which a man or boy had to work.
Tom had often heard his father speak of putting good work into whatever
job he did, but he did not see that there was any connection between
putting a horse-shoe on safely and securely, and doing such work as he
had to do at the warehouse. And the talk with his friend Jack had given
him the impression that in London to be sharp and look out for "Number
One" was a good deal better than plodding work.
With this had come a desire for more spending money. His wages were but
six shillings a week, which he took home to his aunt every Friday, and
from which she gave him threepence for himself, but out of this he had
to buy his own boot and shoelaces.
Threepence a week had seemed a large sum to him at first, but since
he had become acquainted with Jack, who spent more than that every
evening, it had seemed very small, especially as he sometimes had to
spend half of it in replacing broken boot-laces.
As it was, he could very seldom produce a penny for the nightly
consumption of cakes, and as Jack was too good-natured to eat and see
him go without, he found money for both, remarking, when Tom protested
against this arrangement, that he should stand treat by-and-by when he
was in luck, as he would certainly be before long.
In Tom's first letters home, when he knew that he was to have
threepence a week, he had written to tell Dick that he meant to send
him something from London at Christmas. But now he had been here three
months and Christmas was drawing near, Tom wanted money for himself,
and there seemed little chance of Dick getting his promised present.
The luck promised by Jack had not come to him, although he heard
every now and then of one and another among his companions at the
office doubling or trebling their week's pocket-money in a few
minutes. Sometimes it was at card-playing, sometimes on a game of
pitch-and-toss, for it seemed that when they could not gamble on
horse-racing, the lads found out another way of betting.
But Tom never seemed to have money enough to risk in this way, and
he was complaining of this to his bosom friend Jack one day, when he
offered to lend him five shillings for a month, if he liked to accept
it.
"You have brought me luck, if you haven't had it yourself," he said
laughing, "so it's only fair you should share in it."
But Tom would not borrow if he could help it, he shook his head rather
sadly, though, as he thought of a letter that had just come from his
sister Polly, suggesting that he should send Dick a pair of warm
gloves, as he had very bad chilblains on his hands this winter.
"Bother his chilblains," said Tom, half aloud, as he read the letter
one morning at breakfast time.
"What is that, Tom?" asked his uncle looking across the table.
"Dick has got bad chilblains this winter, and Polly wants me to send
him a pair of warm gloves."
"Aye, to be sure, for the Christmas present you were talking about a
little while ago, when you first came up; couldn't be anything better,
they won't cost much; can easily be sent by parcels post, and will be
very useful, too. I tell you what, my boy, I will get them for you. I
have got a friend in the trade who can get me a pair at first hand, so
that they will not cost you so much, for I know you have not much money
to spare for them."
"No, uncle," said Tom, looking down at his bread and butter, and not
caring to say more, for, in truth, he did not know where the money was
to come from to buy these gloves, although he had talked a good deal
about the Christmas presents he was going to send home when he first
came to London.
Now, as he thought over the matter walking to the City, he wondered
how he was to get the money to pay for these gloves, and while he was
thinking of it, his uncle said:
"I think I can get you a first-rate pair of lined leather gloves for
Dick for about eighteenpence something that will make them open their
eyes at home when they see them, and give Master Dick something to
remember as his first pair of gloves. Of course you would like him to
have something good coming from London?"
"Yes, uncle," answered Tom, not knowing what else to say, but wondering
silently where he was to get eighteenpence.
His uncle, however, did not seem to notice his silence. He took all
the talking upon himself that morning, for he was in good spirits, and
glad to have a listener. It was not often that they went to the City
together now, for Tom generally met Randall and Bob, and walked with
them, but his uncle had to go earlier that day, and that was how it was
they came to be walking together.
They separated, however, before the warehouse was reached, and Randall
overtook him before he got in.
"I say, what made you come on without me?" he asked. "I wanted to see
you this morning. Don't you know I said I should want that twopence I
lent you last week?"
"All right, you shall have it," said Tom, in an irritable tone, for he
felt as anxious and worried over his small debts and liabilities as a
millionaire would over the threatened loss of all he possessed.
He reckoned up what he owed to one and the other now, for Randall was
not his only creditor, though his debts were mainly debts of honour,
and represented the wild efforts he had made to realise something of
the dazzling prospect held before him by his new friend, of how money
could be made by a sharp lad when he once knew the ropes.
"The ropes" he had been trying, by which he hoped to make a little
money to spend when he went out in the evening, was the game of
pitch-and-toss. It was usually played at dinner time among a number of
the lads employed at the different warehouses round.
They managed to meet in a quiet corner out of sight of the police or
the older men, and there one would throw up a halfpenny or penny, and
the rest bet eagerly on which side came uppermost.
Tom had seen Bob and another lad win sixpence or eightpence in the
course of a dinner hour, and at last he thought he would try his
luck. But in spite of all Jack professed to know about a lucky hand,
he invariably lost all he risked, and then he had ventured upon the
desperate plan of borrowing a penny or two from whoever would lend, for
once the gambling spirit had seized hold of him he could not shake it
off.
He had threepence in his pocket to-day, and he was so impatient for the
dinner hour to come round, that he could not give the proper attention
to the work in hand, and made several mistakes, which brought down upon
him the anger of the foreman, who even threatened to have him dismissed
if he was not more careful.
When at last the dinner hour arrived and the lads were free to meet in
their favourite haunt, Tom pressed forward to join in the game—not for
the sake of the fun and excitement, that period was over for him just
now, and the deadly thirst for gain had taken its place.
He staked only a penny first and won twopence. This elated him, and he
staked the twopence and won fourpence, and by the time the bell rang
for them to go back to work he had tenpence in his pocket, besides
having paid Randall the twopence he owed him.
It was with supreme satisfaction that he went back to his work rattling
the halfpence he had won. He could afford to think of Dick's gloves now
with something like pleasure, for it must be that his luck had turned
at last, as Jack had always said it would. And a day or two of winning
steadily would not only give him all he wanted for the gloves, but
quite set him up in pocket-money for the Christmas holiday.
So when he met his uncle at breakfast the next morning he asked if he
had enquired about Dick's gloves, and asked him how much they would be.
"Just about what I thought, my boy. Brown tells me he can get me a tidy
pair for eighteenpence."
"But Tom won't have saved eighteenpence by Christmas," said his aunt,
who happened to be present, and who had no notion of her husband buying
these out of his own pocket. "Tom can't save a penny," she added, in a
reproachful tone.
For answer Tom took the halfpence out of his pocket that he had won the
day before, and laid them down upon the table before his aunt, to the
great amusement of his uncle.
"Well done, my lad," he said, with a mischievous glance at his wife.
"Where did you get all that?" she said, rather tartly. "You told me the
other day it cost you such a lot for boot-laces, you never saved more
than a penny a week."
Tom coloured furiously, and wished he had not grumbled over the bad
laces; but he knew his aunt's eyes were upon him, and that he was
expected to give some reason for the possession of all this money, and
he was not long finding one. He had once been sent to fetch a dinner
from the eating-house close by for one of the clerks who did not wish
to go out, and for this service he had been paid twopence, and this was
brought forward now as though it was a matter of frequent occurrence,
and that twopences were often earned in this way.
"Then you ought to have said so before," retorted his aunt, in a
reproachful tone, "for if you can get halfpence so easily, I don't see
why I should give you threepence a week for nothing."
"Oh, nonsense, Maria," said her husband, "it isn't often the boy can
earn so much extra. Mind you take care of it," he added, as he rose
from the breakfast table, and there the matter ended for the present.
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