CHAPTER XIII.

MR. KENYON'S PLANS FOR OLIVER.

Soon after they were seated in the cars, bound for New York, Mr. Kenyon

remarked:

"Perhaps you are surprised, Oliver, that I take you with me instead of

Roland."

Oliver admitted that he was surprised.

"The fact is," said Mr. Kenyon candidly, "I don't think Roland treats

you as well as he should."

Oliver was more and more surprised.

"I don't complain of Roland," he said. "I don't think he likes me, but

perhaps that is not his fault. We are quite different."

"Still he might treat you well."

"Don't think of that, Mr. Kenyon; Roland has never done me any serious

harm, and if he proposed to do it, I am able to take care of myself."

Oliver did not say this in an offensive tone, but with manly

independence.

"You are quite magnanimous," said Mr. Kenyon. "I am just beginning to

appreciate you. I own that I used to have a prejudice against you, and

it is possible I may have treated you harshly; but I have learned to

know you better. I find you a straightforward, manly young fellow."

"Thank you, sir," said Oliver, very much astonished. "I am afraid you

do me more than justice. I hope to retain your good opinion."

"I have no doubt you will," said Mr. Kenyon, in a quiet and paternal

tone. "You have probably noticed that my manner toward you has changed

of late?"

"Yes, sir, I have noticed the change, and been glad to see it."

"Of course, of course. Now, I have got something to tell you."

Oliver naturally felt curious.

"I want to tell you why I have brought you to New York to-day. You

probably thought it was merely for a pleasant excursion."

"Yes, sir."

"I have another object in view. Noticing as I have the dislike--well,

the incompatibility between you and Roland, I have thought it best to

make separate arrangements for you."

Now Oliver was strangely interested. What plan had Mr. Kenyon formed

for him?

"I intend you to remain in the city. How does that suit you?"

There are not many boys of Oliver's age to whom such a prospect would

not be pleasing. He answered promptly:

"I should like it very much."

"No doubt Roland will envy you," said Mr. Kenyon. "I am sure he would

prefer the city to our quiet little country village. But I cannot make

up my mind to part with him. He is my own son, and though I endeavor to

treat you both alike, of course that makes some difference," said Mr.

Kenyon, in rather an apologetic tone.

"Of course it does," said Oliver, who did not feel in the least

sensitive about his step-father's superior affection for Roland.

"Where am I to live in the city?" he asked next.

"There are two courses open to you," said Mr. Kenyon. "You might either

go to some school in the city or enter some place of business. Which

would you prefer?"

Had Oliver been an enthusiastic student, he would have decided in favor

of school. He was a good scholar for his age, but, like all boys, he

fancied a change. It seemed to him that he would like to obtain a

business position, and he said so.

His step-father anticipated this, and wished it. Had Oliver decided

otherwise, he would have exerted his influence to have him change his

plan.

"Perhaps you are right," said Mr. Kenyon meditatively. "A bright, smart

boy like you, is, of course, anxious to get to work and do something

for himself. Besides, business men tell me that it is always best to

begin young. How old are you?"

"Almost sixteen," answered Oliver.

"I was only fourteen when I commenced business. Yes, I think you are

right."

"Is it easy to get a position in the city?" asked Oliver, getting

interested.

"Not unless you have influence; but I think I have influence enough to

secure you one."

"Thank you, sir."

"In fact, I know of a party who is in want of a boy--an old

acquaintance of mine. He will take you to oblige me."

"What business is he in?"

"He has a gentlemen's furnishing store," answered Mr. Kenyon.

"Do you think that business is as good as some other kinds?" said

Oliver dubiously.

"It is a capital business," said his step-father emphatically. "Pays

splendid profits."

"Who is the gentleman you refer to?" enquired Oliver, with natural

interest.

"Well, to be frank with you, it is a nephew of my own. I set him up in

business three years ago, and he has paid back every cent of my loan

with interest out of the profits of his business. I can assure you it

is a paying business."

"I would judge so, from what you say," returned Oliver thoughtfully.

Somehow he felt disappointed to learn that the employer proposed to

him should be a relation of his step-father. This, however, was not an

objection he could very well express.

"Suppose I should not like business," he suggested, "could I give it up

and go to school?"

"Certainly," answered Mr. Kenyon. "Bear in mind, Oliver, that I

exercise no compulsion over you. I think you are old enough now to be

judge of your own affairs."

"Thank you, sir."

The conversation which we have reported took some time. After it was

over Mr. Kenyon devoted his attention to the morning papers, and Oliver

was sufficiently amused looking out of the window and examining his

fellow-passengers.

Presently they reached the city. Leaving the cars, they got into a

horse-car, for distances are great in New York.

Oliver looked out of the car windows with a lively sense of

satisfaction. How much gayer and more agreeable it would be, he

thought, to be in business in a great city like New York than to live

in a quiet little country village where nothing was going on. This

was a natural feeling, but there was another side to the question

which Oliver did not consider. How many families in the great, gay

city are compelled to live in miserable tenements, amid noise and

vicious surroundings, who, on the same income, could live comfortably

and independently in the country, breathing God's pure air, and with

nothing to repel or disgust them?

"New York is rather a lively place, Oliver," said Mr. Kenyon, who read

his young companion's thoughts. "I think you will like to live here."

"I am sure I shall," said Oliver eagerly. "I should think you would

prefer it yourself, Mr. Kenyon."

"Perhaps I may remove here some day, Oliver. I own that I have thought

of it. Roland would like it better, I am sure."

"Yes, sir, I think he would."

"Where is the store you spoke of, Mr. Kenyon?" he queried, after a

pause. "Are we going there now?"

"Yes; we will go there in the first place. We may as well get matters

settled as soon as possible. Of course, you won't have to go to work

immediately. You can take a little time to see the city--say till next

Monday."

"Thank, you, sir. I should prefer that."

"We get out here," said Mr. Kenyon after a while.

They were on the Third Avenue line of cars, and it was to a shop on

the Bowery that Mr. Kenyon directed his steps. It was by no means a

large shop, but the windows were full of articles, labelled with cheap

prices, and some even were displayed on the sidewalk. This is a very

common practice with shops on the Bowery and Third Avenue, as visitors

to New York need not be reminded. On a sign-board over the door the

name of the proprietor was conspicuously displayed thus:

EZEKIEL BOND,

Cheap Furnishing Store.

"This is the place, Oliver," said Mr. Kenyon. "Ezekiel Bond is my

nephew."

"It seems rather small," commented Oliver, feeling a little

disappointed.

"You mustn't judge of the amount of business done by the size of the

shop. My nephew's plan is to avoid a large rent, and to replenish his

stock frequently. He is a very shrewd and successful man of business.

He understands how to manage. The great thing is to make money, Oliver,

and Ezekiel knows how to do it. There are many men with large stores,

heavy stocks, and great expenses who scarcely make both ends meet. Now,

my nephew cleared ten thousand dollars last year. What do you say to

that?"

"I shouldn't think it possible to have such a large trade in such a

small place," answered Oliver, surprised.

"It is a fact, though. That's a nice income to look forward to, eh,

Oliver?"

"Yes, sir."

While this was going on they were standing in front of the window.

"Now," said Mr. Kenyon, "come in and I will introduce you to my

nephew."

Adrift in the City; or, Oliver Conrad's Plucky Fight · 第 13 / 40 章