LIGHT IN THE OFFICE.
"I am getting on finely," said Arthur, coming in from the ship-yard one
evening with a flush of pride on his cheek. "Mr. Munger says he could
trust me to do the whole business of the office. To-day I carried out
bills and collected the money on them to the amount of thirty thousand
dollars. We are settling up for our great vessel, the 'Alphonso.'"
"I thought," remarked his father, "that Munger had that part of the
business."
"Yes, sir, it belongs to him; but he received a letter which had been
sent in haste for him to attend a funeral of some near relative. And
there was no time to ask Mr. Irvington or Mr. Ross, so he gave over
the business to me, and he says to-night that everything is exactly
correct. It was very complimentary."
"It is too great a responsibility for one so young as you," said his
father anxiously, "but it will not probably be necessary again."
"I suppose not," added Arthur, rather mortified at the view his father
took of the case.
After tea, he went down-stairs to find Hepsah. She was in the pantry
opening from the kitchen, and he followed her in there, closing the
door.
"Hepsah," he began with some embarrassment, "is it common to have wine
at funerals?"
"It used to be among wine-drinking people; but I think it is done away
with. What on earth makes you ask such a question?"
"Because," answered Arthur, lowering his voice, "Munger came home
top-heavy with wine or some kind of liquor; and he had been gone all
day to a funeral. Strange, isn't it? He was very kind to me though, and
praised me up—"
"Oh, dear!" screamed Hepsah, bursting open the pantry door. "My bread
is burning. I forgot I'd left it in the oven."
The next morning when Arthur entered the office, Munger was there,
which was an unusual event of late. Indeed, the young clerk had
gradually been persuaded by kindness and flattery to assume a much
larger share of the business than belonged to him, so that Munger could
indulge in an extra morning nap without the knowledge of the firm or
detriment to the business.
This morning he was in excellent humor. "You fancied my necktie the
other day, Arthur," he said, "I have taken the liberty to buy you one."
"Thank you." The tone was constrained. Ever since the glass of soda at
Munger's expense, Arthur had avoided accepting any favor which would
place him under an obligation to his fellow-clerk.
Presently he added, "If you will tell me the price, I had rather pay
for this, Munger," holding it up in his hand. "I meant to get a new
one," and he took out his purse.
Munger assumed a grieved expression. "I thought you liked me well
enough," he said, "to accept so trifling a token as that."
But as Arthur insisted that it was a rule not to accept presents unless
he could make a return, Munger named the price and received the pay.
"I thank you just as much," exclaimed Arthur cordially.
"Well then, I'll ask a favor of you. Don't mention to the firm that I
was called away yesterday. It would only bother them about the bills,
which were all right, you know."
"I'm sure Mr. Irvington would not object to your going to a funeral,"
was the grave reply. "I never should have thought of mentioning it;
but I don't like the idea of keeping any thing from our employers. I
supposed you would tell them the first thing."
"Well, I suppose that will be best," was the careless reply.
But Arthur saw that he was very angry.
During the remainder of the day, and indeed for several days, there was
little conversation between the clerks. Arthur, conscious that he was
in the right in refusing to be a party to deception of any sort with
either of his kind employers, went on calmly with his business as if
nothing had occurred.
Munger, on the contrary, seemed to be in a constant excitement. His
usually pale face was flushed, and on several occasions, his companion
at the desk noticed that his hand trembled.
They were standing together at the end of the fourth day after the
funeral when Munger threw down his pen and exclaimed,—
"This is intolerable. I can't endure it another minute. I've been
provoked with you, Arthur, because I fancied you didn't trust me. Will
you forgive and forget my rudeness these last days?"
"With all my heart," was the cordial reply, and Arthur extended his
hand.
"Now I can go to work with a will," added his companion turning back to
the accounts, from which he did not look up till the hour struck for
them to close the office.
But though all had been made right between him and Munger, Arthur
walked home with a grave, troubled face.
He was not quite happy; and yet he could give no reason for being
otherwise. For a week or two, Mr. Irvington had seemed worried about
something. He had happened in at the office at unusual hours, for
generally he and Mr. Ross were engaged at different places in the
ship-yard, consulting with the owners, or directing about the building
of the ships.
Once, when Arthur with a familiarity which the gentleman's unvaried
kindness had encouraged, asked:
"How is Willie, sir?"
The father turned suddenly upon him, with a frowning brow, with the
wise question,—
"Do you know anything about Willie?" And turned his back upon the
astonished youth.
Mr. Ross, too, had once or twice questioned him in a disagreeable tone
about the accounts. If he were sure such and such a bill were correct.
If he was particular about dates, &c. At the time, Arthur thought the
manner of making the inquiries rather insulting, but now reflecting
upon it, and upon his own endeavors to be faithful to their interests,
he could not believe they had intended to wound him.
"No," he said to himself, "Mr. Irvington must be worried about Willie,
and did not realize how sharply he addressed me."
"Are you well, Arthur?" enquired his mother one night, as they sat at
tea, and the gas-light shone full on his face.
"Perfectly well."
"You have scarcely spoken since you came in."
Arthur laughed as he replied, "And I am usually so great a talker,
you take my silence for illness. No, mother, I was only thinking, and
my thoughts were not very pleasant ones. Something strange happened
to-night, and I don't exactly know what to do or whether to do
anything."
"Perhaps I can advise you," said his father.
"I came away from the office as usual," the youth went on, "but
remembered when half way down the street that I had left my umbrella,
and went back for it. To my surprise, I saw a light, for I had just
locked the door and had the key in my pocket. Looking in at the side of
the curtain, there stood Willie Irvington beside the desk just taking
some bills from Munger, and putting them into his wallet. I coughed
to show that I was near. Instantly, the light was extinguished, and
all was perfectly still. Now," he continued, after a moment's silence,
"what ought I to do?"
"Go and tell Mr. Irvington what you saw."
"Perhaps it was by his direction that Munger was giving him money. If
it was, he will consider me officious. Besides Mr. Irvington is away
this evening."
"Call at his house then and inquire for Willie. Tell his mother you saw
him at the store this evening; and would like to see him again. If it
is all right, your call upon your old companion will be only natural,
and if any thing is wrong, she will ask you to describe your meeting
with him. You can be guided by circumstances as to how much you tell
her. I approve of perfect frankness, you know."