THE MADISON CLUB.
Two days afterwards, when Roswell as usual met his friend Ralph, the
latter said, with an air of importance:--
"I've got news for you, Roswell."
"What is it?" inquired Roswell.
"You've been unanimously elected a member of our club."
"Your club?"
"Yes; didn't I ever mention it to you?"
"No."
"Well, I believe I didn't. You see I intended to propose your name as a
member, and not feeling certain whether you would be elected, I thought
I had better not mention it to you."
"What is the name of the club?" asked Roswell, eagerly.
"The Madison Club."
"What made you call it that?"
"Why, you see, there's one fellow in the club that lives on Madison
Avenue, and we thought that would be an aristocratic name, so we chose
it."
Roswell liked whatever was aristocratic, and the name pleased him.
"Did you say I was unanimously elected, Ralph?" he asked.
"Yes; I proposed your name at our meeting last night. It was on account
of that, that I couldn't meet you as usual. But hereafter we can go
together to the meetings."
"How many fellows belong?"
"Twenty. We don't mean to have more than twenty-five. We are quite
particular whom we elect."
"Of course," said Roswell, in a tone of importance. "You wouldn't want
a set of low fellows like that Dick Hunter."
"No. By the way, I've got somewhere your notification from the
secretary. Here it is."
He drew from his pocket a note adorned with a large and elaborate seal,
which Roswell, opening found read as follows:--
"MADISON CLUB.
"Mr. ROSWELL CRAWFORD.
"Sir:--I have the honor of informing you that at the last regular
meeting of the Madison Club you were unanimously elected a member.
"Yours respectfully,
"JAMES TRACY."
This document Roswell read with much satisfaction. It sounded well
to say that he was a member of the Madison Club, and his unanimous
election could only be regarded as a high compliment.
"I will join," he said, pompously. "When is the next meeting?"
"Next Tuesday evening."
"Where does the society meet?"
"In a room on Fourth Avenue. You can come round early, and we will go
together."
"All right. What do you do at the meetings?"
"Well, we smoke, and tell stories, and have a good time. Generally
there are some eatables provided. However, you'll know all about it,
when you join. Oh, by the way, there's one thing I forgot to tell you,"
added Ralph. "There's an initiation fee of five dollars."
"A fee of five dollars!" repeated Roswell, soberly.
"Yes."
"What is it for?"
"To defray expenses, of course. There's the rent, and lights, and
stationery, and the eatables. They always, I think, have an initiation
fee at clubs."
"Are there any other expenses?"
"Not much. There's only a dollar a month. That isn't much."
"I don't know how I'm going to raise the five dollars," said Roswell,
soberly. "I could manage the dollar a month afterwards."
"Oh, you'll think of some way," said Ralph.
"My mother wouldn't give it to me, so there's no use asking her."
"Why can't you pay it out of your extra wages?" said Ralph,
significantly.
"I shouldn't dare to take such a large sum," said Roswell. "They would
find me out."
"Not if you're careful."
"They don't keep but a few dollars in the drawer at one time."
"But didn't you tell me there was another drawer?"
"Yes; but that is always kept locked."
"Open it then."
"I have no key."
"Get one that will fit it then."
"I don't like to do that."
"Well, it's nothing to me," said Ralph, "only I should like to have
you belong to the club, and you can't unless you are able to pay the
initiation fee."
"I would like very much to belong," said Roswell, irresolutely.
"I know you would enjoy it. We have splendid times."
"I'll see what I can do to raise the money," said Roswell.
"That's the way to talk. You'll manage to get it some way."
It was a great temptation to Roswell. The more he thought of it, the
more he thought he should like to say that he was a member of the
Madison Club. He had a weak love of gentility, and he was persuaded
that it would improve his social standing. But he did not wish to adopt
the course recommended by Ralph if there was any other way of getting
the money. He determined, therefore, first to make the effort to obtain
the money from his mother on some pretext or other. By the time he
reached home, which was at an earlier hour than usual, he had arranged
his pretext.
"I am glad you are home early," said Mrs. Crawford.
"Yes, I thought I'd come home early to-night. Mother, I wish you'd let
me have four dollars."
"What for, Roswell?"
"I want to buy a new hat. This one is getting shabby."
Roswell's plan was, if he could obtain the four dollars from his
mother, to make up the extra dollar out of sales unaccounted for. As to
the failure to buy the hat, he could tell his mother that he had lost
the money, or make some other excuse. That thought did not trouble him
much. But he was not destined to succeed.
"I am sorry you are dissatisfied with your hat, Roswell," said Mrs.
Crawford, "for I cannot possibly spare you the money now."
"So you always say," grumbled Roswell.
"But it's true," said his mother. "I'm very short just now. The rent
comes due in a few days, and I am trying hard to get together money
enough to pay it."
"I thought you had money coming in from your lodgers."
"There's Mr. Bancroft hasn't paid me for six weeks, and I'm afraid I am
going to lose his room-rent. It's hard work for a woman to get along.
Everybody takes advantage of her," said Mrs. Crawford, sighing.
"Can't you possibly let me have the money by Saturday, mother?"
"No, Roswell. Perhaps in a few weeks I can. But I don't think your hat
looks bad. You can go and get it pressed if you wish."
But Roswell declared that wouldn't do, and left the room in an
ill-humor. Instead of feeling for his mother, and wishing to help her,
he was intent only upon his own selfish gratifications.
So much, then, was plain,--in his efforts to raise the money for the
initiation fee at the club, he could not expect any help from his
mother. He must rely upon other means.
Gradually Roswell came to the determination to follow the dangerous
advice which had been proffered him by Ralph Graham. He could not bear
to give up the project of belonging to the club, and was willing to
commit a dishonest act rather than forego the opportunity.
He began to think now of the manner in which he could accomplish what
he had in view. The next day when noon came he went round to the locked
drawer, and, lighting a piece of sealing-wax which he had taken from
one of the cases, he obtained a clear impression of the lock.
"I think that will do," thought Roswell.
At that moment a customer entered the store, and he hurried the stick
of sealing-wax into his pocket.
When the store closed, Roswell went round to a locksmith, whose sign he
remembered to have seen in Third Avenue.
He entered the shop with a guilty feeling at his heart, though he had a
plausible story arranged for the occasion.
"I want a key made," he said, in a business-like manner; "one that will
fit this lock."
Here he displayed the wax impression.
"What sort of a lock is it?" asked the locksmith, looking at it.
"It is a bureau drawer," said Roswell. "We have lost the key, and can't
open it. So I took the impression in wax. How soon can you let me have
it?"
"Are you in a hurry for it?"
"Yes; didn't I tell you we couldn't open the drawer?"
"Well, I'll try to let you have it by to-morrow night."
"That will do," said Roswell.
He left the locksmith's shop with mixed feelings of satisfaction and
shame at the thought of the use to which he was intending to put the
key. It was a great price he had determined to pay for the honor of
belonging to the Madison Club.