CONCLUSION.
Let us go back to Wyncombe. Mrs. Greene, living near Mrs. Rand, was a
lady who made it her business to know all about her neighbors’ affairs.
She stepped into Silas Tripp’s store to buy a pound of butter.
Mr. Tripp himself waited upon her; Mrs. Greene generally had some item
of news, and for this he possessed a keen relish.
“Any news, Mrs. Greene?” he asked, as he handed her the package of
butter.
“I suppose you’ve heard that the widder Rand has lost her boarder?”
“You don’t say so!” returned Silas, with genuine interest.
“Yes, it’s so. I saw her go off myself yesterday afternoon, bag and
baggage.”
“Was she dissatisfied, do you think?”
“Like as not. The widder says she’s comin’ back, but I don’t believe
it. Between you and me, Mr. Tripp, I wonder that she stayed so long.
Now, if she had been boardin’ with you it would have been different.”
“So it would, Mrs. Greene; so it would. I would have been willing to
take her just to oblige.”
“So would I, Mr. Tripp. The widder charged her a ridiculous
price—eight dollars a week.”
“It was extortionate. I never charged such a price.”
“Nor I. Miss Dolby’s board ran the house, so that Chester didn’t need
to send any home, and now Chester’s lost his place.”
“You don’t say so!” ejaculated Silas, eagerly.
“Yes. Mrs. Rand told me herself that he had left his work and gone out
West in search of a place. I don’t see, for my part, what the widder’s
goin’ to do.”
“I’m sorry Chester’s been so unlucky. But he needn’t have gone out
West; I’m ready to take him back into my store.”
“That’s very kind of you, Mr. Tripp.”
“I want to help along his mother, seein’ she’s a widder and in hard
luck.”
“Shall I tell her you will take Chester back?”
“No; I’ll call round and see her about it. There may be some dickerin’
about the salary. Chester’s got rather high notions, but I can’t afford
to pay extravagant prices.”
“Just so. I’m sorry for the widder Rand, but she’s sot too much on that
boy, and thought there wasn’t no other boy in Wyncombe that was equal
to him. I’m sure my Fred is just as smart as he.”
It was not till the next evening that Mr. Tripp found it convenient to
call on Mrs. Rand. She was rather surprised by the visit, and a little
curious to learn what it meant.
“Good-evenin’, widder,” said Silas, coughing.
“Good-evening, Mr. Tripp. Won’t you step in for a few minutes?”
“Thank you. I don’t care if I do. I heard yesterday from Mrs. Greene
that you’d lost your boarder.”
“Yes; Miss Dolby has gone to Chicago for a year. She has a sister
there.”
“Do you expect her back?”
“Yes, after a year.”
“I wouldn’t calc’late too much upon it if I were you. Women folks is
mighty onsartin when they make promises.”
Mrs. Rand smiled.
“You may be right, Mr. Tripp,” she said.
“I hear, too, that Chester’s lost his place.”
“No; he has left it for a time, but he expects to go back.”
“That’s onsartin, too. I’m sorry for you, widder.”
“Thank you, Mr. Tripp, but there’s no occasion.”
“You’ll be rather put to it to get along, I reckon.”
“Still, I have good friends in Wyncombe,” said Mrs. Rand, smiling
mischievously. “Now, if I were really ‘put to it,’ I am sure I could
rely upon your assistance.”
“I’m very short of money,” returned Silas, alarmed at this suggestion.
“Still, I’ve got the will to help you. If Chester’s out of work, I’m
ready to take him back into the store.”
“I will tell him that when I write.”
“Where is he now?”
“He’s gone out West.”
“He’s made a mistake. I knew a boy that went out West some years since,
and nearly starved. He came home ragged and hungry.”
“I am not afraid Chester will have that experience. He had saved up
some money when at work in New York.”
“It won’t last long, widder. It don’t take long for fifty dollars to
melt away. Did he have that much?”
“I think he did, Mr. Tripp.”
“He’d better have put it in a savings bank and come back to Wyncombe to
work for me. How soon do you expect him back?”
“Next week.”
“When he comes, send him round to see me.”
A few days later, Mrs. Greene went into Silas Tripp’s store again.
“Well, Mr. Tripp,” she said, “Chester Rand’s got home.”
“You don’t say! If you see him, tell him to come round and see me.”
“And I can tell you some more news. You know that half-acre lot that
j’ins onto the widder’s land?”
“The apple orchard? Yes.”
“Well, Chester’s bought it.”
“You don’t mean it! Where on earth did he get the money? Do you know
what he paid?”
“Two hundred dollars.”
“He’ll never be able to pay for it.”
“He has paid cash down. Besides, he’s got a new suit of clothes and a
gold watch. I don’t believe he will be willing to take a place in your
store.”
Silas Tripp was amazed. Nay, more, he was incredulous. But it so
happened that Chester himself came into the store in five minutes, and
confirmed the news.
“Where did you get the money, Chester?” asked Mr. Tripp, curiously,
eying the boy with unwonted respect.
“I saved it. I received high pay in New York.”
“But you’ve lost the place?”
“Oh, no! I go back to work next week.”
“How much pay do you get?”
“Thirty dollars a week.”
“Don’t try to fool me!” said Silas, with asperity. “It ain’t creditable
to deceive a man old enough to be your grandfather.”
Chester smiled.
“Do you want me to bring an affidavit from my employers?” he asked.
“But it’s ridiculous, payin’ a boy such wages!” objected Silas.
“It would be foolish for you to pay it, Mr. Tripp; but they think me
worth it.”
“What sort of work do you do?”
“I make pictures. I will show you a couple,” and Chester produced a
copy of _The Phoenix_.
“Why, I didn’t think they paid more’n a quarter apiece for such
pictures.”
“It’s lucky for me that they pay higher than that.”
“What was you doin’ out West?”
“I went partly to see the country.”
“I s’pose it cost you considerable money?”
“Yes, traveling is expensive.”
“You’d better have put the money in the bank.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Boys have foolish notions. I s’pose you was sorry to hear that Miss
Dolby had gone away?”
“No, I want mother to have a few months’ rest.”
“Your mother’ll miss her board.”
“No, for I shall make it up to her.”
“You talk as if you was rich, Chester.”
“I am not so rich as you, Mr. Tripp.”
“You seem to be spending more money; some day you’ll be put to it to
get along.”
But that has not yet come. Two years have passed, and Chester is still
in the employ of _The Phoenix_, but he now receives forty dollars per
week. He has sold his other two lots in Tacoma for five thousand
dollars each, and still has the cheaper lots he bought as an
investment. He could sell these at a handsome profit, but will hold
them a while longer.
About a year ago he received intelligence from Edward Granger that his
stepfather had died suddenly of heart trouble, brought on by an undue
use of alcoholic mixtures. Edward concluded: “Now there is nothing to
mar my mother’s happiness. I live at home and manage her business,
besides filling a responsible place in a broker’s office. We hope you
will pay us a visit before long. We have never forgotten your kindness
to me in my time of need.”
A month since Mr. Fairchild was surprised by receiving a remittance
from Tacoma. His old bookkeeper, David Mullins, remitted to him the
amount he had stolen at the time of his hurried departure from New
York, with interest up to date.
“I hope, Mr. Fairchild,” he concluded, “you will now forgive me for my
treachery. I feel great satisfaction in paying my debt. I have been
assisted by a fortunate investment in outside lots. I am glad to hear
that Felix is doing well. You were kind to retain him.”
Felix is really doing well, and bids fair to make a good business man.
He was weak and influenced to evil by his cousin; but with good
surroundings he is likely to turn out creditably.
Chester retains the friendship and good opinion of his first friend,
Carl Conrad, and is a favorite visitor at the house of Prof. Hazlitt,
whose great work has just appeared from the press of a subscription
publisher. His nephew, Arthur Burks, is now in college, and he and
Chester remain intimate friends.
Silas Tripp has ceased to expect to secure the services of Chester in
his store. He had never been able to understand the secret of Chester’s
success, but has been heard to remark: “It does beat all how that boy
gets along!”
Fortunately, prosperity has not spoiled Chester. He is still the same
modest and warm-hearted boy, or perhaps I should say young man, and his
friends all agree that he deserves his success.
THE END.