Several months have passed away since the daring attempt of the escaped
convict to rob Mrs. Raymond in her humble home, and a change has come
that has brought gloom upon the mother and her two children.
It may have been the shock she had, when threatened by the intruder,
that caused her to break down and take to her bed ill; but certain it is
that she was forced to give up her work, she said for a day or two, and
keep her children home from school.
Little Pearl was a good cook, however, and Will made the fires and did
what little marketing there was, so that their mother did not suffer for
want of attention.
Still she fretted, and a fever followed, and Will went after a doctor on
his own responsibility, and placed his mother in his care.
The man of medicine made three visits, and his pay took two-thirds of
the little money the poor woman had, and she determined to get up and go
to work to earn more.
But she could do but little, and, weak and wretched, she gained strength
very slowly.
Then Will went out to see what he could get to do, and each night he
came in with a few pence, earned by blacking boots, running errands or
selling papers, and this helped to eke out a subsistence for all three.
Mrs. Raymond did not seem to suffer pain, she had no fever, but her
ailment appeared to be heart trouble, and night after night she lay
awake brooding over her sorrows.
Surprised, as the days passed, that Will seemed to be bringing in more
money each day, she wondered at it, and questioned him, but he merely
said that he picked it up in odd jobs.
"But, Will, you are looking pale and haggard, and you are working too
hard," seeing that he did look wan and white.
"No, mother, I'm all right," he answered, and so the conversation ended.
But that night Mrs. Raymond could not sleep, and growing strangely
nervous, she went to wake her son to talk to her for awhile.
To her surprise he was not in his little rear room adjoining the
kitchen, and the bed had not been slept in.
She awakened Pearl and asked her about her brother.
"Oh, mamma, don't scold him, for he is at work," said Pearl anxiously.
"Your brother at work, and at night?"
"Yes, mamma, for he has a place as night messenger in a telegraph
office; he goes on at ten o'clock and gets off at six," explained
Pearl.
"My poor boy! and this accounts for his being so hard to wake up every
morning.
"Yes, mamma; but he sleeps in the daytime when he can, and you know he
goes to bed early, but I always wake him up at half-past nine o'clock;
and, oh, mamma! Will gets six dollars a week, only think of that."
"And he's killing himself, he don't get half the sleep he should have.
"He must give it up, Pearl, for I will not allow him to ruin his health
and slave his young life away as he is doing."
"But, mamma, you are sick, and Will makes so much, and you ought not to
work."
But Mrs. Raymond was firm in her resolve, and when Will came creeping
into his little room in the early morning, he was astonished at finding
his mother lying in his bed, awaiting him.
In vain he argued; she would not hear of his continuing his night-work,
and so Will Raymond left his place and looked for something else to do.
But nothing came in his way; times were hard, and but a few pennies a
day were all the mother and her children had to live on.
Will seldom ate at home, saying that he got plenty at the lunch-counters
during the day, and he left the scanty food for his mother and sister;
but this his mother soon began to disbelieve, as the boy looked really
ill and was growing thin.
"To-day is Thanksgiving Day, Will, so we must have a good dinner," said
Mrs. Raymond, with a forced smile, one morning, after a most meagre
breakfast.
"Oh, mamma!" said Will, and his heart was too full to say more.
"My son, I have a gold-piece--a three-dollar piece given me years ago,
and which I have held on to until now, never counting it in thinking of
my finances; but I wish you to take it and go to some good market and
invest a dollar at least in a good dinner;" and the poor mother turned
away to hide her tears, for the faces of her children told her plainly
that they were hungry--yes, very hungry, as she was herself.
Will took the piece of gold, when his mother had taken it from its
hiding-place, and placed it carefully in his pocket.
Then he started out upon his errand.
He was anxious to make his money go as far as possible, and yet secure
the best, so he wended his way to a market, which had often attracted
his attention.
Arriving at the market he feasted his eyes upon bunches of crisp, white
celery, selected some fine sweet-potatoes, picked out a fine chicken,
and then felt in his pocket for his money.
The marketman saw him turn pale as death, and then say, in a whisper,
which he knew was not feigned:
"_My gold-piece is gone!_"
"Have you lost your money, my little man?" he asked, in a kindly way.
"Yes, sir; and it is all we have in the world.
"Ah! here is a hole in my pocket, and it has rolled out, for it was a
three-dollar gold-piece.
"But maybe I can find it, sir," and the tears were in the boy's eyes.
"If you do not come back, I will trust you for your Thanksgiving dinner,
for I know you will pay me when you can."
"Oh, thank you, sir! You are so kind!" and Will bounded away to look for
his gold-piece.
But then he remembered that if he went at a rapid pace it might escape
his eye; he walked slowly, searching the ground at every step of the
way.
Presently he walked bolt up against a gentleman who had been watching
his approach for half a block.
"Oh, pardon me, sir!" he said.
"Certainly, my boy; but you appear to be searching for something that
you have lost?"
The face of the man was full of kindness, though stern, and his voice
had a sympathetic tone in it that touched the boy, who told his
misfortune to the stranger, adding:
"It was all we had, sir, and poor mother's heart will break, I know."
The man looked like one who had seen the world, and he dressed as one
who had a plethoric pocket-book.
He was a reader of human nature, and saw that it was no begging for
sympathy that the boy told his story for.
A man of fifty, perhaps, he was well preserved, and yet there was that
in his face that seemed to indicate that his life had not been all made
up of sunshine.
"My boy, I found your gold-piece, and--"
"Oh, sir!" cried Will, in delight.
"Yes, and I took it as an omen of good luck, this Thanksgiving day, and
I meant to devote many times its amount to charity, of which I might not
have thought but for my finding this gold-piece.
"No, I cannot give you my 'luck-piece,' as I must keep it; but I will
give you more than its value, so let us go to the market and get the
things you ordered, and then, if you will ask me home with you, I will
go, for somehow I look upon you as a lucky find, my boy.
"Come, now, to the market."
"But, sir, our home is a flat on the top floor of a tenement-house, and
it is so humble, and we are so poor, you would not like to go there."
"I will go, unless you refuse to take me, my boy."
"No, sir, I could not refuse one who is so kind to me," was the answer,
and Will led the way back to the market.
"Did you find your money, my lad?" asked the man.
"Yes, sir, or rather this gentleman found it for me."
"Yes, sir, and I wish you to put up your best turkey, and other things
that I will order, and send at once to the address that my young friend
here will give you."
Will stood aghast, as he heard the orders, for flour, tea, coffee,
sugar, hams and other things were on the list until he seemed to feel
that his kind friend was going to provision the flat for a year to
come.
"Now, Will, we must take a carriage, for I am a trifle lame, from the
effects of an old wound when I was a soldier in the Mexican war," and a
passing hack was called, and the two entered it.
Arriving at the tenement-house the gentleman bade the driver wait, and
then he followed Will up the dingy flights of stairs to the top floor.
Opening the door of the sitting-room, Will ushered his guest in, and
Mrs. Raymond arose from her easy-chair at sight of a stranger.
She looked pale and thin, but very beautiful, and her face slightly
flushed as she saw her son with the visitor.
"This is my mother, Mr. Ivey, and this, my little sister Pearl.
"Mother, this gentleman has been most kind to me," and Will introduced
his visitor with the ease of one double his years.
The visitor seemed amazed at the lovely woman he beheld before him, and
instinctively he knew that he was in the presence of a lady.
He bowed low, and advancing held out his hand, while he said:
"You must pardon my intrusion, Mrs. Raymond; but I was so fortunate this
morning as to find a three-dollar gold-piece.
"It caught my eye, as it glittered upon the pavement, and picking it up
I saw that it had a hole in it, so attached it to my watch-chain.
"A moment after I beheld one I recognized as the owner coming in search
of it, and thus I made the acquaintance of your noble boy, and hence
took the occasion to also meet you and his sister."
Mrs. Raymond was touched by the words of the visitor, and there was that
in his face that seemed to impress her, and she said:
"You are very welcome, sir, though ours is but a poor home for visitors,
and I have been an invalid for some little time; but may I ask, as my
son introduced you as Mr. Ivey, if you are not Colonel Richard Ivey, who
was known as Dashing Dick Ivey of the Dragoons in the Mexican war?"
"Why yes, madam, that was my name, when years ago I was a cavalry
officer; but have we met before that you recognize me?"
"No, sir, but when a girl I kept a scrap-book, and yours was among the
pictures that I took from a paper and put in it, and often have I looked
over the book and your face has but little changed, so I recalled it
upon hearing your name."
"You are very kind, my dear madam, and this is another link of
friendship between us that you should remember me as a soldier, and I
hope you will look upon me from this day as an old friend, one who knows
your sufferings and your needs, for I have heard all from Will, and I
intend to do for you just what I would have done for a sister of mine
were she in distress," and into the hearts of the mother and her
children came a joy that they had not known for many a long day, and all
through Will Raymond's losing his three-dollar gold-piece on
Thanksgiving Day.