MR. TRIPP IS DISAPPOINTED.
Silas Tripp returned home full of the news he had heard in New York.
“Just as I thought,” he said to himself, “Chester Rand ought never to
have left Wyncombe. He ain’t calc’lated to succeed in the city. He’d
orter have stayed in my store. In two or three years he might have been
earnin’ four or five dollars a week, and he could have boarded at home.
It costs a sight to live in the city. I ain’t sure that I could afford
it myself.”
Mr. Tripp decided to offer Chester his old place at two dollars and a
half a week. Abel Wood was again in his employ, but he didn’t like him
as well as Chester.
The latter he had always found reliable, while Abel was rather apt to
forget what Silas told him. Once he had stopped in the street and
played ball, losing ten or fifteen minutes in that way. Mr. Tripp was
obliged to confess that he never had a more satisfactory boy than
Chester.
The store closed at nine, and Silas, instead of going into the house,
walked over to Mrs. Rand’s cottage.
She was rather surprised when she saw who her visitor was.
“Good-evening, Mr. Tripp,” she said, politely. “Won’t you come in?”
“Thank you, widder. It’s rather late to call, but I thought you might
like to hear about York, seein’ Chester is there.”
“Have you been to New York to-day?”
“Yes; I went up on a little business.”
“Did you see Chester?”
“No, I didn’t see him,” answered Silas, significantly.
“Did you hear anything of him?” Mrs. Rand naturally asked.
Mr. Tripp coughed.
“Well, yes, I heered somethin’ about him.”
“Is he—sick?” asked the mother, anxiously, made apprehensive by his
tone.
“Not that I know of. Hain’t he writ anything special to you?”
“I had a letter yesterday, but there was nothing special in it.”
“I suppose he didn’t say nothin’ about his place?”
“Yes; he likes it very much.”
“I don’t like to say it, widder, but he’s deceivin’ you. I saw his
employer myself, and he said that he had to discharge Chester.”
Somehow Mrs. Rand did not seem so much disturbed by this intelligence
as the storekeeper thought she would be.
“Oh, you mean the real estate office,” she said.
“Yes; I was treated quite handsome by Mr. Mullins, the bookkeeper, who
is runnin’ the business while Mr. Fairchild is away. He says Chester
wasn’t spry enough, that he wasn’t wide awake enough to work in the
city.”
Mrs. Rand actually smiled.
“So that is what he said,” she returned. “I can tell you why Chester
was discharged. Mr. Mullins wanted to give the place to his nephew.”
“Mebbe so,” answered Silas, dubiously. “Anyhow, it’s unfortunate for
Chester to lose his place. I feel for you, Mrs. Rand, as I always liked
Chester myself, and I came here to-night to say that I’m ready to take
him back into the store, and give him two dollars and a half a week. He
suits me.”
Mr. Tripp leaned back in the rocking-chair and looked as if he had made
a very handsome proposal.
“I see, Mr. Tripp,” said Mrs. Rand, smiling, “that you think Chester is
out of a position.”
“So he is. Wasn’t he discharged? I know from what Mr. Mullins said he
won’t take him back.”
“Chester would not be willing to go back. He has a new and better
place.”
“You don’t say!” ejaculated Mr. Tripp, surprised and, it must be
confessed, disappointed. “What sort of a place is it?”
“He is working for a New York paper or magazine.”
“Sho! Does he get as much pay as he did at the other place?”
“Considerably more,” Mrs. Rand answered, with satisfaction.
“More’n five dollars a week?”
“Yes; he offers to send me five dollars a week, but I can get along
without assistance, since Miss Dolby pays me so liberally.”
“Well, I am surprised. Chester is very lucky. Mebbe it won’t last,” he
continued, hopefully.
“It seems likely to be permanent.”
“Well, I guess I must be goin’. If he should lose his place, tell him I
will take him back any time.”
“I don’t think he would be satisfied to come back to Wyncombe after
working in New York.”
Silas Tripp returned to his house rather disappointed. He had felt so
sure of securing Chester’s services, and now his old boy seemed to be
quite out of his reach.
“Offered to send his mother five dollars a week!” he soliloquized.
“Then he must be makin’ as much as ten in his new place. Mr. Mullins
didn’t seem to know about it. I wonder what he can be doin’ to get such
a high salary.”