CHAPTER I

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Dick the Bank Boy

Or

A Missing Fortune

BY

FRANK V. WEBSTER

AUTHOR OF "ONLY A FARM BOY," "BOB THE CASTAWAY,"

"COMRADES OF THE SADDLE," "AIRSHIP ANDY," ETC.

ILLUSTRATED

NEW YORK

CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY

PUBLISHERS

BOOKS FOR BOYS

* * * * *

By FRANK V. WEBSTER

* * * * *

12mo. Cloth. Illustrated.

* * * * *

ONLY A FARM BOY

TOM, THE TELEPHONE BOY

THE BOY FROM THE RANCH

THE YOUNG TREASURE HUNTER

BOB, THE CASTAWAY

THE YOUNG FIREMEN OF LAKEVILLE

THE NEWSBOY PARTNERS

THE BOY PILOT OF THE LAKES

TWO BOY GOLD MINERS

JACK, THE RUNAWAY

COMRADES OF THE SADDLE

THE BOYS OF BELLWOOD SCHOOL

THE HIGH SCHOOL RIVALS

AIRSHIP ANDY

BOB CHESTER'S GRIT

BEN HARDY'S FLYING MACHINE

DICK, THE BANK BOY

DARRY, THE LIFE SAVER

Copyright, 1911, by

CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY

* * * * *

DICK, THE BANK BOY

[Illustration: TURNING TO DICK HE CONTINUED TO QUESTION HIM.

_Dick the Bank Boy_ _Page 137_]

CONTENTS

CHAPTER PAGE

I. THE MEETING ON THE ROAD 1

II. A MOTHER WORTH FIGHTING FOR 9

III. DICK'S FIRST WAGES 17

IV. IN SEARCH OF A JOB 24

V. MR. GRAYLOCK RECEIVES A SURPRISE 32

VI. BOUND FOR THE OLD FISHING HOLE 40

VII. DICK MAKES A GALLANT RESCUE 48

VIII. THE COMING OF A LETTER 57

IX. GREAT NEWS 66

X. THE MEETING IN THE BANK 74

XI. FRIENDLY ADVISE 83

XII. GATHERING CLOUDS 92

XIII. WANTED IN THE CASHIER'S OFFICE 100

XIV. UNDER SUSPICION 108

XV. MR. GRAYLOCK SEEMS DISAPPOINTED 117

XVI. FORTUNE'S FAVORS 125

XVII. THE INVESTIGATION 133

XVIII. THE RECEIVING TELLER FREES HIS MIND 142

XIX. NOT FOR SALE 149

XX. A RED LETTER DAY 157

XXI. GOOD WORDS ON EVERY SIDE 165

XXII. A REMARKABLE BIT OF INTELLIGENCE 173

XXIII. NEARING A CLIMAX 181

XXIV. MR. GRAYLOCK MEETS HIS WATERLOO 190

XXV. CONCLUSION 198

DICK, THE BANK BOY

CHAPTER I

THE MEETING ON THE ROAD

"Get out of my way, Dick Morrison!"

The boy who had been trudging along the narrow road looked up in

surprise at hearing himself spoken to so suddenly, though he recognized

the domineering voice even before catching sight of the speaker.

"You already have half of the road, Ferd Graylock; to give you more I'd

have to back down in the ditch, and I don't care to do that," he

replied, standing perfectly still and watching with some amusement the

zigzag movements of the other, now close upon him.

Ferd was mounted on a new motor-cycle, purchased with savings out of his

pocket money, and with which machine he had been of late scouring the

surrounding country.

Evidently the little motor had broken down while he was some distance

away from home, necessitating considerable walking up hill and hard

pedalling on the levels.

Weary, and over-heated by his exertions, he was naturally in an ugly

temper at the time he met Dick on the narrowest place along the entire

road, where a ditch on one side and a fence on the other, left only

enough room for a single vehicle at a time to pass.

Just then, judging from his erratic swinging from side to side, Ferd

needed the whole road, and seeing this, the other lad stood by, ready to

guard himself if the cumbersome machine headed his way.

His suspicions as to the intentions of Ferd to run him down seemed well

founded, for, pretending to be unable to control the heavy machine, the

rider came lunging directly at the standing boy, who would have been

struck only for a quick leap to one side, by means of which he avoided a

collision.

But alas! the edge of the road was closer than Ferd had calculated on

when maliciously endeavoring to give the pedestrian a scare, and as a

consequence the motor-cycle plunged down into the ditch.

Ferd managed through a quick effort to leap off his seat just in time to

avoid being overwhelmed in the disaster.

He scrambled to his feet choking with both dust and anger.

His beautiful machine lay with its front buried in the water of the

ditch, and the sight was so disagreeable that Ferd seemed to lose what

little discretion he generally boasted.

"There, see what you've done, Dick Morrison!" he exclaimed, fiercely.

"Well, now, I like that," answered the other, hardly knowing whether to

laugh or show indignation; "you try to run me down, and when I step out

of the way to avoid an upset you accuse me of having had a hand in the

mess. Why did you jump off when by a twist of the handlebars you could

have saved the machine? Suppose you blame yourself, not me."

"But you saw that I had lost control, and if you'd only wanted you could

have stopped its plunge; but you'd rather see me get into a peck of

trouble. How d'ye suppose I'm ever going to lug that heavy thing back up

to the road now?" demanded Ferd, spitefully.

"Oh! I don't mind giving you a hand at that. I hate to see such a fine

machine lying in the mud like a mired cow," declared Dick, cheerfully.

Ferd looked at him dubiously, as though his spirit urged him to decline

the generous offer of assistance made by one he chose to regard as his

enemy; but the road was lonely, no one might come along for some time to

help him, and the motor-cycle was too heavy for him to drag out of the

hole unassisted.

So he swallowed his pride, and grudgingly allowed Dick to take hold on

one side while he dragged at the other, and in this fashion the machine

was speedily placed once more on dry land.

Of course it was pretty well soiled, and did not look very much like the

spick-and-span new wheel that a few days back had been the envy of every

boy in Riverview.

Dick, who could not bear to see anything abused, immediately snatched up

a handful of grass from the side of the road under the fence, and

commenced to wipe the worst of the muck away.

"Never mind bothering yourself about that; I guess I can attend to it

when I get home. It wouldn't have happened anyway if I hadn't met you on

the road," said Ferd, with a return of his bitterness.

Dick looked at him queerly, and then threw down the rough wiper he had

been using.

"I guess you're right. And as I didn't do anything to trouble you it

looks as if you just wanted to knock me into the ditch. It's a case of

the biter bitten, Ferd. When you see me helping you pull your old

machine out of the ditch again you'll know it."

Filled with indignation he turned and walked rapidly away, leaving the

other looking after him, still angry and yet perhaps somewhat ashamed in

the bargain.

This was not the first time these two lads found themselves facing one

another with fire in their eyes.

In school they seemed to be constantly ranged on opposite sides, and

the rivalry had extended into many of the natural pastimes indulged in

by growing boys, from baseball in the summer to football in the autumn

and skating and hockey in the winter.

The rivalry seemed unequal from one point of view, since Ferd was the

only son of Archibald Graylock, proprietor of the big department store

in the town, and known as a wealthy man; while Dick lived in an humble

cottage with his mother, a widow, and their circumstances had been

growing more and more straightened during the last year, so that our

hero was seriously contemplating giving up all hope of attending school

again in the fall, and seeking a position.

Dick's father had been a carpenter known for his many good qualities; he

had by frugality and prudence saved a sum which had been invested as he

thought judiciously, and would serve as a means of support to his little

family in case anything happened to him.

Seriously injured in an accident he had lingered for nearly a year and

then been taken, leaving the mother and son to face the world. For

several years things went along smoothly, for Mrs. Morrison was an

excellent housekeeper, and could make a dollar go a great ways without

appearing to be niggardly; but unexpected misfortune overtook them, and

the company in which most of the carpenter's savings had been invested

struck a reef, so that not only did the little income cease from this

source but there was danger that the principal might also be lost.

This was the serious condition of affairs in Dick's home at the time he

met his bitter rival on the road; he had been buried in thought, trying

to see what his duty might be, and as he continued on after leaving Ferd

he endeavored to forget the unpleasant incident, and resume his

planning.

Chances for work were not very abundant in and around Riverview.

Dick knew little about farming, and besides, even though he should

secure a job in that line he was aware that most farmers insisted upon

their help being on the ground all the time, as they had to get out long

before daylight to feed the stock, and since he could not leave his

mother alone he had to pass any such opportunity by.

There was the bank of which Mr. Gibbs was president; he had always

yearned to do something along that line; but having no experience he had

never dared apply for a position there, though envying Charles Doty, who

ran messages and made himself generally useful in the bank, "learning

the ropes, so that in time he could step into Mr. Gibbs' shoes," as he

used often to say with pride.

For a lad with business ambitions there remained only the two grocery

stores, and the grand emporium conducted by Mr. Graylock, an institution

he chose to call a department store, and which covered quite a large

space of ground.

Strange to say Dick had just been making up his mind to call on this

latter enterprising merchant and solicit an opening, at the time he met

the hopeful son on the road, and had another disagreeable experience

with Ferd; indeed, it seemed as though they could never come together

without some trouble arising, though Dick had resolved time and again

that he would not be the first to pick a quarrel.

Now he reflected that it was almost useless approaching Mr. Graylock,

for he felt sure that the gentleman must have heard about the time when

he and Ferd engaged in a rough and tumble fight on the baseball field,

after the other had deliberately struck him, and called him a coward

because he was so slow to take off his coat and engage in a combat that

proved to be rather gory for Ferd--yes, he _knew_ this must be the case,

for his mother had looked serious for some little time, and he heard

that the rich man was seen leaving their humble cottage one afternoon

while he was away.

So he felt undecided as to what he should attempt, and all the way home

he pondered over the situation, determined to do something to chase away

the look of concern which every now and then he saw gathering on his

mother's gentle face, when she did not dream that he was observing her.

"She doesn't want me to know how hard things are growing," he mused.

"She thinks of me all the time, and is the dearest little mother in the

world. I'd give up anything for her, and I'm going to find a position

somewhere, somehow. That's settled. There's got to be more money coming

in through the door of the Morrisons, and it's up to Richard to set the

stream in motion."

His resolution was all very well, but it was not so easy to decide where

this fountain could be tapped that was to pour its tiny golden stream

into their almost empty reservoir.

Again and again he shook his head resolutely as he trudged along, and

the expression on his face was that of one who has made up his mind and

will not allow himself to be turned aside by any obstacle; it was the

look of a _winner_, and when his mates saw Dick Morrison set his teeth

in that determined way they knew he was bound to lead his side to

victory, no matter what the opposition.

Dick presently drew near the little cottage in which he and his mother

had lived ever since he could remember, and which, with its flower

garden, was as pretty a spot as one could find along the river road just

outside the town.

Thinking only of showing a cheery face to the one who had ever been his

best friend and counsellor on earth he tried to forget his worries, and

starting to whistle merrily opened the gate and passed up the walk.

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