Produced by Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This book was
produced from scanned images of public domain material
from the Google Print project.)
[Transcriber's note: This etext is based on the A.L. Burt publication
of 1899 and differs from etext30387, which is the post-1900 version
published by M. A. Donohue & Co., in that it contains the last seven
chapters before the "Conclusion" chapter which are missing from the
later version; it is also illustrated. (the images are visible in the
html version only)]
[Illustration: "'Why, Uncle Solon, is that you?' exclaimed Mark."--Page
7. _Mark Mason's Victory._]
MARK MASON'S VICTORY
THE TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS OF
A TELEGRAPH BOY.
BY Horatio Alger, JR.,
_Author of "Joe's Luck," "Tom the Bootblack," "Dan the Newsboy,"
"The Errand Boy," etc., etc._
ILLUSTRATED.
NEW YORK:
A. L. BURT, PUBLISHER.
Copyright, 1899, by A. L. BURT.
MARK MASON'S VICTORY.
BY HORATIO ALGER, JR.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER PAGE
I. Two Strangers from Syracuse 1
II. Where Mark Lived 10
III. An Unexpected Call 17
IV. A Night at Daly's 25
V. Mark as a Hero 34
VI. "The Evening Globe" 42
VII. The Great Mr. Bunsby 50
VIII. A Scene in Mrs. Mack's Room 57
IX. An Adventure in a Fifth Avenue Stage 65
X. An Important Commission 74
XI. Mr. Hamilton Schuyler is Astonished 78
XII. Mr. Schuyler has a Bad Time 90
XIII. Mark Starts on a Journey 99
XIV. The Telltale Memorandum 108
XV. A Railroad Incident 116
XVI. Mark as a Detective 124
XVII. Mark Makes a Call on Euclid Avenue 132
XVIII. A Midnight Visit 140
XIX. At Niagara Falls 149
XX. A Newspaper Paragraph 157
XXI. Mark Returns Home 165
XXII. A Crafty Schemer 178
XXIII. Mark's Good Luck 182
XXIV. The Two Sisters Meet 190
XXV. Maud Gilbert's Party 199
XXVI. An Important Commission 207
XXVII. Last Instructions 215
XXVIII. Mark at Omaha 219
XXIX. Nahum Sprague and his Orphan Ward 223
XXX. A Circus in Mr. Sprague's Yard 229
XXXI. Philip Finds a Friend 239
XXXII. Nahum Sprague's Surprise 247
XXXIII. A Change for Philip 255
XXXIV. On the Way Home 264
XXXV. Edgar Gets into Trouble 272
XXXVI. At the Fifth Avenue Hotel 281
XXXVII. Solon Talbot's Plans 290
XXXVIII. The Mining Stock is Sold 299
XXXIX. Conclusion 302
MARK MASON'S VICTORY.
CHAPTER I.
TWO STRANGERS FROM SYRACUSE.
"THAT is the City Hall over there, Edgar."
The speaker was a man of middle age, with a thin face and a nose like a
Hawk. He was well dressed, and across his vest was visible a showy gold
chain with a cameo charm attached to it.
The boy, probably about fifteen, was the image of his father. They were
crossing City Hall Park in New York and Mr. Talbot was pointing out to
his son the public buildings which make this one of the noted localities
in the metropolis.
"Shine?" asked a bootblack walking up to the pair.
"I'd like to take a shine, father," said Edgar. "What do you charge?"
"Five cents, but I don't object to a dime," replied the bootblack.
"Can I have a shine, father?"
"Why didn't you get one at the hotel?"
"Because they charged ten cents. I thought I could get it for less
outside."
"Good boy!" said the father in a tone of approval. "Get things as low as
you can. That's my motto, and that's the way I got rich. Here, boy, you
can get to work."
Instantly the bootblack was on his knees, and signed for Edgar to put
his foot on the box.
"What's your name, boy?" asked Edgar with a condescending tone.
"No, it ain't boy. It's Tom."
"Well, Tom, do you make much money?"
"Well, I don't often make more'n five dollars a day."
"Five dollars? You are trying to humbug me."
"It's true though. I never made more'n five dollars in a day in my life,
'cept when I shined shoes for swells like you who were liberal with
their cash."
Edgar felt rather flattered to be called a swell, but a little alarmed
at the suggestion that Tom might expect more than the usual sum.
"That's all right, but I shall only pay you five cents."
"I knew you wouldn't as soon as I saw you."
"Why?"
"'Cause you don't look like George W. Childs."
"Who's he?"
"The _Ledger_ man from Philadelphia. I once blacked his shoes and he
gave me a quarter. General Washington once paid me a dollar."
"What!" ejaculated Edgar. "Do you mean to say that you ever blacked
General Washington's shoes?"
"No; he wore boots."
"Why, my good boy, General Washington died almost a hundred years ago."
"Did he? Well, it might have been some other general."
"I guess it was. You don't seem to know much about history."
"No, I don't. I spent all my time studyin' 'stronomy when I went to
school."
"What's your whole name?"
"Tom Trotter. I guess you've heard of my father. He's Judge Trotter of
the Supreme Court?"
"I am afraid you don't tell the truth very often."
"No, I don't. It ain't healthy. Do you?"
"Of course I do."
This conversation was not heard by Mr. Talbot, who had taken a seat on
one of the park benches, and was busily engaged in reading the morning
_World_.
By this time Tom began to think it was his time to ask questions.
"Where did you come from?" he inquired.
"How do you know but I live in the city?"
"'Cause you ain't got New York style."
"Oh!" said Edgar rather mortified. Then he added in a tone which he
intended to be highly sarcastic: "I suppose you have."
"Well, I guess. You'd ought to see me walk down Fifth Avener Sunday
mornin' with my best girl."
"Do you wear the same clothes you've got on now?"
"No, I guess not. I've got a little Lord Fauntleroy suit of black
velvet, with kid gloves and all the fixin's. But you ain't told me where
you live yet."
"I live in Syracuse. My father's one of the most prominent citizens of
that city."
"Is it the man you was walkin' with?"
"Yes; there he is sitting on that bench."
"He ain't much to look at. You look just like him."
"Really, I think you are the most impudent boy I ever met!" said Edgar
with asperity.
"Why, what have I said? I only told you you looked like him."
"Yes, but you said he wasn't much to look at!"
"I guess he's rich, and that's better than good looks."
"Yes, my father is quite wealthy," returned Edgar complacently.
"I wish I was rich instead of good lookin'."
"You good looking!"
"That's what everybody says. I ain't no judge myself."
Tom looked roguishly at Edgar, and his aristocratic patron was obliged
to confess that he had a pleasant face, though it was marred by a black
spot on each cheek, probably caused by the contact of his hands.
"You're a queer boy," said Edgar. "I don't know what to make of you."
"Make a rich man of me, and we'll go to Europe together. My doctor says
I ought to travel for my health."
"Edgar, haven't you got your shoes blacked yet?" asked his father from
the bench.
Tom struck the box sharply with his brush to show that the job was
completed.
"Just got done, governor," he said familiarly.
"Here is your money," said Edgar, producing some pennies from his
pockets.
"There's only four," observed Tom with a critical glance.
"Only four! Haven't you dropped one?"
"No. That's all you gave me."
"Father, have you got a cent?"
Mr. Talbot's hand dived into his pocket, and he brought out a penny, but
it was a Canadian coin.
"I don't know as I can pass this," said Tom. "They're very particular at
the Windsor Hotel, where I am boarding."
"You can save it till you go traveling in Canada," suggested Edgar, with
unusual brightness for him.
"That's so," answered Tom, who appreciated a joke. "I'll stop in
Syracuse on the way and pay you a visit."
"How does he know about our living in Syracuse?" asked Mr. Talbot.
"I told him I lived there."
"He said you was a big bug up there."
"I hope you didn't use that expression, Edgar," said his father.
"Oh well, that's what he meant. Won't you have a shine yourself,
governor?"
"No; I don't think I shall need it."
"Where'd you get that shine you've got on?"
"In Syracuse."
"Tell 'em they don't understand shinin' boots up there."
"Hadn't you better go up there and give them some lessons?" suggested
Edgar.
"Well, I don't mind, if I can get free board at your house."
"Do you think we would have a bootblack living in our house?"
"Don't waste any time on him, Edgar. He is a street boy, and his manners
are fitted to his station."
"Thank you, governor. That's the biggest compliment I've had for a long
time."
Mr. Talbot laughed.
"Really, boy, you are very grotesque."
"That's another compliment," said Tom, taking off his hat and bowing
with mock politeness.
"Hallo, Tom!"
Tom turned to meet the smile of a District Telegraph messenger, who was
crossing the park to Broadway.
"How's yourself, Mark?" he said. "I'd offer to shake hands, but I've
been doin' a little business for these gentlemen, and my gloves ain't
handy."
No. 79, following the direction of Tom's nod, glanced at Mr. Talbot and
Edgar, and instantly a look of surprise came over his face.
"Why, Uncle Solon, is that you?" he exclaimed.
Solon Talbot looked embarrassed, and seemed in doubt whether to
acknowledge his relationship to the humble telegraph boy.
"Are you Mark Mason?" he asked.
"Yes; don't you know me?"
"I haven't seen you for two years, you know."
"And this is Edgar!" continued the telegraph boy. "You've grown so I
would hardly know you."
"I hope you are well," said Edgar coldly.
"Thank you. Uncle Solon, where are you staying?"
"Ahem! I am stopping up town."
"Shall you be in the city long?"
"I don't think so."
"Mother would like very much to see you. She would like to ask about
grandfather's estate."
"Ah--um--yes! Where do you live?"
"No. 174 St. Mark's Place, near First Avenue."
"We'll call if we can. Edgar, we'll have to hurry away."
As they walked toward the other side of the park at a brisk pace, Tom
asked: "You don't mean to say that's your uncle, Mark?"
"Yes; that is, he married my mother's sister."
"And that young swell is your cousin?"
"Yes."
"He is rich, isn't he?"
"I suppose so."
"Why don't he do something for you and your mother?"
"He was always a very selfish man. But we don't ask any favors--mother
and I don't. All we ask is justice."
"What do you mean by that?"
"My grandfather, that is mother's father and Mrs. Talbot's, died two
years ago, and Uncle Solon was the administrator. We supposed he had
left a good deal of money, but all we have received from his estate is
seventy-five dollars."
"Do you think the old feller's been playin' any game on you?"
"I don't know what to think."
"I tell you what, Mark, he deserves a good lickin' if he's cheated you,
and I'd like to give it to him."
"Well, Tom, I must be going. I can't stop talking here, or I'll get into
trouble at the office."