MR. MANSON IS SURPRISED.
Emanuel Manson felt too late that he had made a mistake. He had
intended to humiliate Paul by making him his own errand boy, but our
hero's firm refusal to serve him made the humiliation his own. He did
not venture to report the matter to Mr. Bradford, for he knew that he
had no right to call upon Paul to do his own errands; yet to let it
pass would seem like a confession of weakness.
"I can't do anything at present," he decided, "but I will take the
first opportunity to prejudice Mr. Bradford against the young rascal
and procure his dismissal."
In other words, Mr. Manson proposed to bide his time. He had no idea of
foregoing his vengeance, but thought it politic to defer it. Meanwhile
he had plenty of opportunities to make things disagreeable to Paul, and
availed himself of them.
At the end of the first week a very disagreeable surprise awaited Mr.
Manson.
The time came to pay off the clerks, and among others Paul.
He drew from the cash-box four dollars and handed it to our hero, with
the remark:
"There's your pay, though it is more than you have earned."
Paul glanced at the two two-dollar bills which lay in his hand, and
said, quietly:
"Why do you pay me four dollars?"
"Three would be enough, but I didn't suppose you would be modest enough
to admit it."
"I am not. I suppose Mr. Bradford hasn't told you how much my wages are
to be."
"How much?" inquired the book-keeper, with a sneer. "Ten dollars, I
presume."
"You are right. I will trouble you to give me six dollars more."
"Are you crazy?" gasped Manson.
"Not that I am aware of," answered Paul, coolly.
"If you are trying to humbug me, you may as well give up the attempt. I
wasn't born last year."
"I am neither crazy nor trying to humbug you," said Paul, with easy
self-possession. "Mr. Bradford has kindly agreed to pay me ten dollars
a week, and----"
"I never heard a more outrageous falsehood!" ejaculated Manson. "The
idea of paying a raw, inexperienced boy ten dollars a week! Why, it is
utterly ridiculous. I shall take care to report your attempted swindle
to Mr. Bradford."
"Just as you like, Mr. Manson; but first, will you cast your eyes over
this note?"
Paul produced a folded sheet of note-paper, and passed it to the
book-keeper.
Manson read to his amazement these words over the signature of
Alexander Bradford:
"I have fixed the wages of Paul Palmer at ten dollars per week, and
you are authorized to pay him that sum."
"Where did you get this paper?" asked Manson.
"From Mr. Bradford."
"When?"
"Yesterday. He thought you would require his authority for paying so
large a sum."
"How do I know but you have forged this note?" asked Manson.
"Probably you know Mr. Bradford's handwriting and signature. Besides,
it would be foolish in me to attempt a forgery which would immediately
be found out."
In fact, Manson knew that the note was genuine. He could not be
mistaken in Mr. Bradford's handwriting, but he wanted to find some
excuse for delaying or refusing payment. On the whole, he did not
venture to do either, as he knew his employer would be offended.
"There's your money," he said, throwing the balance on the desk. "I
can't say I understand it at all. I shall feel it necessary to speak to
Mr. Bradford on the subject."
"I wish you would, sir, so as to remove any doubts you may have."
"It is about three times as much as you have earned."
"I won't dispute you, sir. I am quite aware that it is more than I can
earn."
"Then why did Mr. Bradford pay you so much?"
"Probably he will tell you when you speak to him on the subject."
Manson was baffled, but he felt all the more annoyed that his nephew
Julius had lost a situation which carried so much pay with it.
He dispatched Paul on an errand, and during his absence Julius came in.
"Well, Julius," said his uncle, "I have just been paying that boy who
has got your place."
"I wish you had been paying me. I haven't got a cent to my name. Four
dollars would have come mighty convenient."
"Four dollars!"
"Yes; isn't that what he gets? Three dollars would be too mean."
"The boy gets _ten dollars_ a week!"
"Ten dollars!" gasped Julius. "Oh, come now, you're fooling."
"Not at all. Do you see that?"
He showed Julius the note of Mr. Bradford previously referred to.
"Good gracious! I can't believe it!" exclaimed Julius. "Why, it's
tremendous pay. Can't you turn him off and get me in his place? What a
swell I'd cut on ten dollars a week!"
"I wish you had the place," said Manson, thoughtfully; "but I don't
know how to manage it."
"Try to think of some way, Uncle Emanuel," pleaded Julius. "I should
have liked it at four, for ma only gives me a dollar a week allowance,
and that is hardly enough to buy my cigarettes."
"You'd be a good deal better off if you gave up cigarettes. They are
doing you no good."
And here Mr. Manson gave his nephew good advice.
"Put me in the place, and I'll do whatever you want me to," said Julius.
"I'll do my part," said the book-keeper.