A VISIT TO THE BANKER'S HOUSE.
The disturbing elements that had produced the somewhat dramatic and
extraordinary scenes of the last week were now apparently quiet. But
were they actually so? This is the question that Herbert Randolph and
Bob Hunter asked themselves--a question that caused them much anxiety.
Felix Mortimer, to be sure, was in the Tombs awaiting his trial. But the
granite wall and the great iron doors were alike powerless to imprison
his mind. He was as free as ever to think and to plot. What schemes of
revenge might not then be planned by this boy whose hatred for Herbert
Randolph now undoubtedly burned more fiercely than ever? And Gunwagner,
his companion in crime, was free to carry out any plan that might be
agreed upon between them. He had given bonds to appear when wanted by
the court, something that Felix Mortimer was unable to do. This is why
the latter was still locked up, while the old fence was allowed his
temporary freedom.
Except for the constant anxiety that Herbert and Bob felt over this
matter, everything went smoothly with them. Papers sold briskly, work
at the bank was congenial, and they had already become much interested
in each other. The days flew by quickly, and they looked forward to
the evenings, which they spent together as a time for enjoyment and
improvement. As often as Tom Flannery could leave his evening school he
joined them, and he was always welcome. No one could help liking him, he
was so simple and honest. How keenly he enjoyed an evening with Herbert
and Bob in their room, or strolling about the great city, as they
not infrequently did! Their slender means would not warrant them in
attending the theater often. Occasionally, however, they managed to get
inexpensive admission tickets to a really good play. Bob Hunter usually
procured them as a reward for some service he had given during the day,
when his paper trade did not demand his attention. Many very good free
lectures, too, were open to them, and they seldom failed to improve this
opportunity. The Young Men's Christian Association building, with its
fine library and gymnasium, proved a very attractive resort to these
three boys, whose happiness, though they lived in the most humble way,
was doubtless equalled by few boys in the great metropolis, however
luxurious their home and surroundings.
One evening in particular young Randolph found especially enjoyable. It
came about in this way. Mr. Goldwin had a slight attack of rheumatism
that caused him to remain at home. He sent a note to his office saying
he should not be at the bank on that day, and requesting Herbert to come
to his house late in the afternoon, and to bring with him a report of
the day's business, and whatever mail it would be desirable for the
banker to see.
The young Vermonter read the note eagerly, and then immediately did
the same thing over again. A peculiar pleasure shone in his eyes as he
looked doubtingly at the little piece of paper. And now he saw a very
attractive picture--a rich family carriage into which a charmingly
pretty girl was being helped by a blushing boy. He wondered why she had
never been at the bank since that time, and speculated dreamily upon his
chance of seeing her at her father's house.
Thus the day wore away, and at the close of business hours young
Randolph hurried from the bank, taking with him what he had been
requested to bring.
At City Hall Park he stopped and informed Bob Hunter of his mission, and
then went quickly to his room to put himself into the most presentable
appearance possible with the somewhat scanty resources of his wardrobe.
His heart beat fast with expectations and fears as he ascended the brown
stone steps of Mr. Goldwin's house.
"Good evening, Mr. Randolph," said the banker, greeting Herbert very
cordially. "I hope you have a good report of today's transactions for
me."
"Yes, I think this statement of the transactions will please you,"
replied young Randolph politely.
"Excellent," exclaimed the banker with a smile of satisfaction, as
he read the report. "You have done a splendid day's work. The market
must have been unusually active. Why, here is a transaction of twenty
thousand shares by one house alone--great customers, Breakwell & Co.,
great customers, bold men--not afraid of anything."
"They certainly seem to be very enterprising," remarked Herbert, feeling
the necessity of saying something, and that that something should concur
with his employer's views.
"Most assuredly they are," answered the banker, warming to the subject.
"Why, if we had more houses like Breakwell & Co., Wall Street would see
no dull days--no, sir, none at all. On the contrary, it would just hum
with activity."
"I suppose they are perfectly good, Mr. Goldwin," remarked Herbert, not
knowing what better reply to make.
"Good? Why, they are rated A1, and are reported to be very rich,"
replied the banker.
"Did they make their money by speculating?"
"Yes, I understand so."
"Are they sure of keeping it if they continue to speculate?"
"Well, now, you are asking me a difficult question. Nothing, you know,
is certain in Wall Street."
[Illustration: HERBERT'S FIRST VISIT TO THE BANKER'S HOUSE.]
Before Herbert had time to reply, dinner was announced. The question
touching the reliability of Breakwell & Co. was immediately dropped,
and in its place arose the unexpected problem whether or not he should
accept the banker's invitation to dine with him and his family. He would
have quite as soon thought of receiving an invitation to dinner from the
mayor himself. It was quite natural, therefore, that he should offer
some ridiculous reason why he should be excused, when, as a matter of
fact, he would have much rather served another term of imprisonment at
old Gunwagner's than lose this opportunity.
"Come right along" commanded Mr. Goldwin, himself leading the way.
Herbert followed the banker into the parlor, where he was introduced to
his employer's wife and daughter.
He found himself blushing even more profusely than when he had handed
Ray Goldwin into her carriage, at the close of his first day's service
for her father. This heightened color, too, seemed to be reflected upon
her cheeks, and her manner indicated a slight but not unnatural
embarrassment.
Herbert had thought that the dinner given by Bob Hunter was about as
good as could well be served, but this one proved in every respect much
the better; and notwithstanding his nervousness and lack of ease, under
circumstances so unfamiliar, he enjoyed the meal greatly.
While Herbert Randolph could laugh at the drollery and peculiar street
language of Bob Hunter and Tom Flannery, he nevertheless found a higher
degree of pleasure in the conversation of this intelligent and refined
family.
"Papa told us about your imprisonment, Mr. Randolph," said Ray, looking
wonderfully pretty, as Herbert thought. "It must have been dreadful."
"It was an unpleasant experience," replied young Randolph, lightly; "but
I came out all right."
"Ah, that reminds me," said Mr. Goldwin, "that one of the letters you
brought me was from my attorney. In it he expressed the opinion that you
can recover damages from the old fence for false imprisonment. I would
therefore advise you to place the matter in his hands at once, and have
him push it."
"You mean put it into the hands of your lawyer?"
[Illustration: "YOU EMBARRASS ME," SAID HERBERT, BLUSHING.]
"Yes."
"I appreciate very highly your interest in my behalf, Mr. Goldwin, and I
will do as you say," replied Herbert.
"Wouldn't it be splendid if you could get damages from that dreadful old
man?" said Ray, with enthusiasm.
Thus the conversation ran on, and before the dinner had been finished,
Herbert felt himself quite well acquainted with both Mrs. Goldwin and
Ray. He had tried to convince himself that he did not care for girls,
and he thought he had succeeded well in doing so. But for some
inexplicable reason, his imaginary objections to the sex in general
did not stand long against Ray Goldwin in particular.
Her bright blue eyes, brimful of spirit and laughter, seemed to detect
his aversion, and she aimed, he thought, to show him that he had
deceived himself.
After the meal had been finished all repaired to the library, where,
after a half hour of social converse, Herbert wrote several letters for
Mr. Goldwin at his dictation. Ray sat opposite him with the purpose of
reading, but as a matter of fact she did not progress very fast with the
story.
"Would you be willing to write in my autograph album, Mr. Randolph?"
said she, somewhat timidly, when he had finished her father's letters.
"Yes, I will do so with pleasure," he answered.
"I shall be proud of such pretty writing," returned Ray, handing him the
book.
"You embarrass me," said he, blushing.
"I don't see why," laughed Ray, enjoying young Randolph's modesty.
"Well, I am not accustomed to compliments, especially from--er----"
"From young girls," suggested Mrs. Goldwin, smiling.
"Thank you," returned Herbert; "I was hesitating whether to say 'girls'
or 'young ladies.'"
"Oh, say girls, by all means," replied Mrs. Goldwin. "We don't want Ray
to become a young lady too soon."
"I don't blame you," responded our hero, half seriously.
"Why, Mr. Randolph," said Ray, shaking her dainty finger at him, "I
believe I would not have asked you to write in my album if I had
supposed you would say that."
"Well, it is not too late yet, for you see I have not touched the book
with the pen," laughed Herbert.
"Oh, but I would not want to disappoint you. You know you said it would
give you pleasure to do so."
"So it would, but I would rather sacrifice this pleasure than feel that
you would be sorry you had given me the invitation."
Without further parley Herbert wrote in the album--wrote so prettily
that he was roundly complimented by all.
Mrs. Goldwin and Ray were now summoned into the drawing room to receive
a caller, and presently young Randolph took his leave, and started for
his room with a very light and happy heart.