OLIVER ADOPTS A NEW GUARDIAN.
Mrs. Hill, Oliver's landlady, was glad to obtain another lodger. She
had a vacant square room which she was willing to let for five dollars
a week. Oliver reported this to Nicholas Bundy at the hotel the next
morning.
"If the price is too high," he added, with an involuntary glance at the
stranger's shabby appearance, "perhaps Mrs. Hill will take less."
"I am willing to pay five dollars," said Nicholas promptly. "If you
recommend it I have no doubt it will suit me."
When Mr. Bundy presented himself to the landlady, she, too,--for
necessity had made her sharp-sighted and experience had made her
suspicious,--evidently felt the same distrust as to his pecuniary
status.
"Would you mind paying weekly in advance?" she asked doubtfully.
A smile lighted up his rough features.
"No, ma'am," he said; "that'll suit me just as well."
He drew out a large pouch, which appeared to be full of gold pieces,
and drew therefrom an eagle.
"That'll pay for two weeks," he said, as he placed the coin in her hand.
The display of so much gold and his willingness to pay for his room two
weeks in advance at once increased the lady's respect for him.
"I shall try to make your room comfortable for you," she said. "There's
a sofa I can put in, and I've got an extra rocking-chair."
The stranger smiled.
"I'm afraid you'll spoil me," he said. "I'm used to roughing it, but
you may put 'em in. When my young friend here comes to see me, he can
sit on either."
A shabby-looking trunk and a heavy wooden box were deposited in the
room before sunset.
"Now I'm at home," said Nicholas Bundy, with satisfaction. "You'll
come and see me often, won't you, Oliver?"
He had already begun to call our hero by his Christian name, and
evidently felt quite an interest in him.
"I can promise that," said Oliver, "for I am a gentleman of leisure
just now."
"How is that?" asked Bundy quickly.
"I have lost my situation, and have all my time at my own disposal."
"How do you pay your way, then?" enquired Nicholas.
"I have money enough on hand to last me about ten weeks, or, with rigid
economy, even longer. Before that time passes, I hope to get another
situation."
"How much does it cost you to live?"
"About ten dollars a week."
"Suppose I employ you for about a week," proposed Bundy.
"Is it any work I am fit for?" asked Oliver. "If so, I say yes, and
thank you."
"It is something you can do. You must know that it is twenty years
since I have set foot in New York, and it's grown beyond my knowledge.
I want to go about and see for myself what changes have taken place in
it. Will you go with me?"
"Yes, Mr. Bundy, I will go with you, and charge nothing for it."
"That won't do," said the stranger. "I shall insist on paying you ten
dollars a week."
"But it seems like robbing you."
"Don't you trouble yourself about that. You think I am poor, perhaps?"
"You don't look as if you were rich," said Oliver, hesitating.
"No, I suppose not," said Mr. Bundy slowly. "I don't look it, but I am
worth fifty thousand dollars--in fact, more."
Oliver looked surprised.
"You wonder that I am so rough-looking--that I don't wear fine clothes,
and sport a gold watch and chain. It aint in my way, boy. I've been
used to roughing it so long that it wouldn't come nat'ral for me to
change--that's all."
"I am glad you are so well off, Mr. Bundy," said Oliver heartily.
"Thank you, boy. It's well off in a way, I suppose, but it takes more
than money to make a man well off."
"I suppose it does," assented Oliver, but he privately thought that a
man with so much money was "well off" after all.
"Suppose, after twenty years' absence, you came back to your old home
and found not a friend left,--that you were alone in the world, and had
no one to take the least interest in you,--is that being well off?"
"That is very nearly my own situation," said Oliver. "I have a
step-father, but he has cast me off."
"Did you care for him?"
"He never gave me cause to."
"Then you don't miss him?"
"He has all my mother's property,--property that should be mine,--and
he cast me off with twenty dollars."
"He must be a mean skunk," said Mr. Bundy indignantly. "Tell me more
about it."
Upon this Oliver told his story. Mr. Bundy listened with sympathizing
interest. At one point he smote the table with his hard fist and
exclaimed:
"The rhinoceros! I'd like to hammer him with my fist!"
"I should pity him if you did, Mr. Bundy," said Oliver smiling.
When the story was ended Nicholas took the boy's hand in his, while his
rough features worked with friendly emotion.
"You've been treated bad, Oliver," he said, "but don't mind it, boy.
Nicholas Bundy'll be your friend. He won't see you want. You shan't
suffer as long as I have an ounce of gold."
"Thank you, Mr. Bundy," said Oliver gratefully. "I may need your help,
but, remember, I have no claim on you."
"You have as much claim as anyone. Look upon me as your guardian, and
don't be anxious about the future. I, too, have been wrongly used, and
some day I'll tell you the story."
Two days later, as they sat on the deck of a Staten Island steamer,
Nicholas Bundy told Oliver his story.
"Twenty years ago," he said, "I was a clerk in a store in New York. I
was a spruce young man then--you wouldn't think it, but I was. I was
earning a moderate salary, and spending it nearly all as I went along.
About this time I fell in love with a young girl of sweet face and
lovely disposition, and she returned my love. I've been battered about
since, and the years have used me hard, but I wasn't so then. Well, I
had a fellow-clerk, by name Jones,--Rupert Jones,--who took a fancy to
the same girl. But he found she liked me better, and would say nothing
to him, and he plotted my ruin. He was an artful, scheming villain, but
I didn't know it then. I thought him to be my friend. That made it the
easier for him to succeed in his fiendish plot. I needn't dwell upon
details, but there was a sum of money missing by our employers, and
through this man's ingenuity it was made to appear that I took it. It
was charged upon me, and my denial was disbelieved. My employers were
merciful men, and they wouldn't have me arrested. But I was dismissed
in disgrace, and I learned too late that he did it. I charged him
with it, and he laughed in my face. 'Addie won't marry you now!' he
said. Then I knew his motive. I am glad to say he made nothing by it. I
resigned all claim to my betrothed, but though she consented to this,
she spurned him.
"Well, my career in New York was ended. I had a little money, and,
after selling my watch, I secured a cheap passage to California. I
made my way direct to the mines, and at once began work. I had varying
luck. At times I prospered; at times I suffered privation. I made my
home away from the coast in the interior. At last, after twenty years,
I found myself rich. Then I became restless. I turned my money into
gold and sailed for New York. Here I am, and I have just one purpose in
view--to find my old enemy and to punish him if I get the chance."
"I can't blame you," said Oliver. "He spoiled your life."
"Yes, he robbed me of my dearest hopes. I have suffered for his sin,
for I have no doubt he took the money himself."
"Do you know where he is now?"
"No; he may be in this city. If he is, I will find him. This is the
great object of my life, and you must help me in it."
"I?"
"Yes. I will take care of you. You shall not want for anything. In
return, you can be my companion, my assistant, and my friend. Is it a
bargain?"
"Yes," said Oliver impulsively.
"So be it, then. If you ever get tired of your engagement I will
release you from it; but I don't think you will."
"Do you know, or have you any idea, where this man is--this Rupert
Jones?"
"I have heard that such a man is living on Staten Island. I saw his
name in the New York Directory. That is why I wished to come here
to-day."
"We are at the first landing," said Oliver. "Shall we land?"
"Yes."
The two passed over the gang-plank upon the pier, and the boat went on
its way to the second landing.