A BOY WITH A MYSTERY
The boy who called himself Markham flushed scarlet at Frank’s sudden
words. His hand went with a quick, nervous movement to his upper lip. He
looked dreadfully embarrassed.
“Never mind,” said Frank abruptly, trying to make it easy for the young
fellow. “You look better without it.”
Markham had gained time now to cover his confusion. He swallowed a lump
in his throat and smiled feebly.
“You see,” he stammered somewhat, “that wasn’t a real moustache--that
one I’ve dropped.”
“Oh, wasn’t it?” said Frank.
“No. How I happened to have it was this,” explained Markham, rather
lamely, but with apparent truth. “See?” and he produced from a pocket
two false moustaches and as many small goatees. “Fact is, I wanted to
earn some money. I saw a peddler selling those things on a street
corner. They went like hot cakes. I asked him where he bought them. He
told me, said he had taken them up only temporarily to make a little
pocket money. He was nearly sold out, and offered me about a dozen of
them for a quarter. I sold nearly all of them, and then went to the
address he gave me to stock up again. They wouldn’t sell under a
gross--three dollars and sixty cents, I think the price was. I didn’t
have that much, so my scheme fell down.”
Markham now took a printed circular from his pocket, as if to verify his
statement. Frank glanced over it with increasing interest. It advertised
a city firm supplying street peddlers with all kinds of goods.
“Yes,” said Frank, “I noticed a man selling these same articles on a
street corner. It’s a pretty catchy novelty with boys and young men.”
“It is, for a fact,” declared Markham. “Look here: did you ever see
‘Teddy’s Teeth?’ That’s an old novelty--look.”
Markham produced and put in his mouth a row of false teeth, welted the
reverse side of a moustache, placed it on his upper lip, a minute black
dab of hair on his chin, and turned for inspection to Frank.
The latter laughed heartily. The transformation from Markham’s natural
face was immense.
“You have no idea how those things catch people the first time they see
them,” said Markham. “I’ve noticed that fellows from the country buy
best. Say, if I had a gross of them, I bet I could sell them in two
days, down your way.”
“I think you could, too, Markham,” replied Frank, “and you have set me
thinking on an entirely new business proposition. Can I keep this
circular?”
“Surely, if it’s any use to you.”
“It may be,” said Frank, “in fact, I think I shall order a gross as soon
as I get home, just to experiment on.”
“Going peddling?” insinuated Markham.
“Why, I’ll tell you,” answered Frank. “Settle down comfortably, and
we’ll chat a little. It will do me good to talk out what’s continually
on my mind. More than that, I shouldn’t wonder if you, with all your
experience, could give me some very valuable points. The long and short
of it is, I am going into the mail order business.”
“Oh!” said his companion wistfully, “isn’t that grand.”
Frank told his new friend all about himself, his business and his hopes
and plans. The other listened with great attention. When Frank had
finished talking, Markham showed by his expression of face that he
considered him a pretty smart business boy.
“If you can afford to hang around with me till I get my bearings,” added
Frank, “I’ll guarantee you a comfortable home anyway, and good money if
you know how to earn it.”
Markham’s eyes grew big with excitement. Then his face fell, as he said:
“I’d like nothing better in the world, but business men don’t hire
strangers without a recommendation. I can give none. I’ll be square with
you. My name isn’t Markham at all. I can’t tell you my real one until
maybe a long, long time. I wore that moustache partly as a disguise.”
“Well, all that is your business, Markham,” said Frank.
“I know that, but it must look suspicious to you. If I told you that I
am leaving the city to get away from some one who is hunting me, would
you feel like trusting me much?”
Frank took his companion’s hand in his own and looked him straight in
the eyes.
“Markham,” he said, “I am willing to put entire confidence in you. I owe
you that much, surely. Your secrets are not my business, I would like
to ask one question only: You haven’t run away from home, have you?”
“I have no home,” answered Markham in a subdued tone.
“An orphan?” insinuated Frank, gently.
“No, my father is living. He is in the Philippines. He will be out of
service next January. All I am waiting for is for him to get back to
this country to right my wrongs.”
“Don’t worry about it, Markham,” said Frank, observing deep sadness and
distress shadow the bright face of his companion. “You come home with
me. I’ve got so good a mother she will welcome you gladly.”
“But I want to work,” said Markham.
“Haven’t I got work waiting ready for you, and lots of it, too?”
demanded Frank.
“That’s so, is it?” said Markham, brightening up. “My! to be away--away
from the city in a quiet, beautiful town. Oh, dear! Oh, dear! You are
the first real friend I’ve found in six months, and--I can’t help it.”
“That’s right--get rid of all your old troubles,” said Frank, and he did
not think the less of his new friend because he had a good, solid cry.
“There’s nothing but sunshine ahead for you, if I can help you any.”
Frank warmed to the boy as they continued their conversation. A dark
spell seemed to lift from Markham’s spirit, each mile accomplished away
from the great city that appeared to hold some secret, haunting dread
for him.
“Greenville,” announced Frank heartily at length--“and home.”
The hour was late, the streets deserted, but, as they strolled away from
the little railroad depot, Markham walked like a person in some rapt
dream. He drew in great luxurious breaths of the flower-perfumed air. He
viewed pretty moonlit lawns and gardens as if he were looking at some
fascinating picture.
“Like it, do you?” smiled Frank.
“I love the country. I always did,” replied Markham. “This is just grand
to me. Look here, now,” he continued, “you had better let me stow myself
in some friendly haystack or under some hedge till morning. Don’t
disturb your mother to-night about me.”
“Disturb her?” said Frank. “No danger of her going to bed till I show
up, if it’s till morning. There we are--there’s the light in the window
for us, Markham.”
Frank led his friend upstairs over the store. Markham lagged behind
until the greetings between mother and son were over. He stepped a
little timidly forward, as he heard Frank say:
“Mother, I have brought a friend home with me. This is my mother,
Markham.”
Mrs. Ismond received the homeless boy with a sweet, welcoming smile that
won his heart entirely. She told Frank to take him into the sitting
room while she herself hustled about the kitchen. Frank left Markham
long enough to join his mother and tell her what he owed to his new
companion.
“It’s late,” said Mrs. Ismond a few minutes later, “but you must eat a
good meal after your long, busy day, and I positively will wake up
nobody in this house until nine o’clock in the morning.”
There were only two beds in the house. Frank shared his with Markham.
The latter wore a happy smile on his face as he stretched himself out
luxuriously.
“That supper!” he said, in a rapturous sort of a way. “This nice
comfortable bed! I’ve got to shut my eyes for fear it will all turn out
a dream.”
Frank was glad to lie thinking for a spell undisturbed. His companion
fell into a profound, exhausted slumber. Mrs. Ismond retired, and the
house was all quiet at last.
Like a panorama all the varied events of the preceding twenty-four
hours passed vividly through Frank’s mind. He felt greatly satisfied
with the outcome of his visit to the city.
Then Frank began to scan the future, his plans, his ambitions. He felt
truly rich with his little money capital, the present work in hand, the
mail order lists, the apple corer, and other things.
“How sick that man is of his apple corer,” mused Frank. “There are over
five thousand of the crude, unsatisfactory things in that big box down
stairs. He had a good idea all right, but didn’t know how to apply it.
He gave it--to--me--be--”
There Frank drifted into a doze. It was strange, but he half-dreamed,
half-thought out some wonderful transformation of the hardware man’s
invention, and, all of a sudden, in a lightning flash, a great, surging
idea swept through his brain with tremendous force.
It lifted him out of his sleep half-dazed, he gave a jump from the bed
to the floor. There he wavered, rubbing his eyes, and then irresistibly
shouting out:
“Eureka--I’ve found it!”