It was a boy's thought, and betrayed our hero's inexperience. Evenunlimited means are not sure to produce happiness, nor do handsomesurroundings prove wealth.
Five minutes later an elderly lady entered the room. She was richlydressed, but her face wore a look of care and sorrow.
As she entered, Frank rose with instinctive politeness, and bowed.
"You are the telegraph boy," said the lady, inquiringly.
"Yes, ma'am."
Mrs. Graham looked at him earnestly, as if to read his character.
"I have sent for you," she said, at length, "to help me in a matter ofsome delicacy, and shall expect you not to speak of it, even to youremployers."
"They never question me," said Frank, promptly. "You may rely upon mysecrecy."
Frank's statement was correct. The business entrusted to telegraphmessengers is understood to be of a confidential nature, and they areinstructed to guard the secrets of those who make use of their services.
"I find it necessary to raise some money," continued the lady,apparently satisfied, "and am not at liberty, for special reasons, tocall upon my husband for it. I have a diamond ring of considerablevalue, which I should like to have you carry, either to a jeweller or apawnbroker, and secure what advance you can upon it."
"And I believed she had plenty of money," thought Frank, wondering.
"I will do the best I can for you, madam," said our hero.
Mrs. Graham drew from her pocket a small box, containing a diamond ring,which sparkled brilliantly in the sunshine.
"It is beautiful," said Frank, admiringly.
"Yes, it cost originally eight hundred dollars," said the lady.
"Eight hundred dollars!" echoed Frank, in wonder. He had heard ofdiamond rings, and knew they were valuable, but had no idea they were sovaluable as that.
"How much do you expect to get on it?" he asked.
"Nothing near its value, of course, nor is that necessary. Two hundreddollars will be as much as I care to use, and at that rate I shall beable the sooner to redeem it. I believe I will tell you why I want themoney."
"Not unless you think it best," said Frank.
"It is best, for I shall again require your services in disposing of themoney."
The lady sat down on the sofa beside Frank, and told him the story whichfollows:--
"I have two children," she said, "a daughter and a son. The son hasrecently graduated from college, and is now travelling in Europe. Mydaughter is now twenty-six years of age. She was beautiful, and oursocial position was such that my husband, who is a proud man,confidently anticipated that she would make a brilliant match. But atthe age of nineteen Ellen fell in love with a clerk in my husband'semploy. He was a young man of good appearance and character, and nothingcould be said against him except that he was poor. This, however, wasmore than enough in Mr. Graham's eyes. When Lawrence Brent asked for thehand of our daughter, my husband drove him from the house with insult,and immediately discharged him from his employ. Ellen was high-spirited,and resented this treatment of the man she loved. He soon obtained aplace quite as good as the one he had lost, and one day Ellen left thehouse and married him. She wrote to us, excusing her action, and I wouldgladly have forgiven her; but her father was obdurate. He forbade mymentioning her name to him, and from that day to this he has neverreferred to her.
"I am now coming to the business in which you are to help me. For yearsmy son-in-law was able to support his wife comfortably, and also the twochildren which in time came to them. But, a year since, he became sick,and his sickness lasted till he had spent all his savings. Now he andhis poor family are living in wretched lodgings, and are in need of thecommon necessaries of life. It is for them I intend the money which Ican secure upon this ring."
Frank could not listen without having his sympathies aroused.
"I shall be still more glad to help you," he said, "now that I know howthe money is to be used."
"Thank you," said the lady. "You are a good boy, and I see that I cantrust you implicitly."
She handed Frank the box, enjoining upon him to be careful not to loseit.
"It is so small that it might easily slip from your pocket," she said.
"I shall take the best care of it," said Frank. "Where would you adviseme to go first?"
"I hardly know. If I wished to sell it I would carry it to Tiffany; butit was purchased there, and it might in that case come to my husband'sears. There is a pawnbroker, named Simpson, who, I hear, is one of thebest of his class. You may go there first."
"How much shall I say you want on it?" asked Frank.
"Don't mention my name at all," said the lady, hastily.
"I suppose I shall have to give some name," said Frank, "in order thatthe ticket may be made out."
"What is your own name?"
"Frank Kavanagh."
"Have you a mother living?"
"No," said Frank, gravely.
"Then let the ticket be made out in your name."
"If you wish it."
"Shall I bring the money to you, Mrs. Graham?"
"No; my husband might be at home, and it would arouse his suspicions. Attwelve o'clock I will meet you at Madison Park, at the corner oppositethe Union League Club House. You can then report to me your success."
"Very well," said Frank.
He went at once to the pawnbroker mentioned by Mrs. Graham. But for hisuniform he would have been questioned closely as to how he came by thering; but telegraph boys are so often employed on similar errands thatthe pawnbroker showed no surprise. After a careful examination he agreedto advance two hundred dollars, and gave Frank the money and the ticket.When Frank gave his own name, he said, "That is your name, is it not?"
"Yes, sir."
"But the ring does not belong to you?"
"No; it belongs to a lady who does not wish her name known."
"It is all the same to us."
"That was easily done," thought Frank. "Now I must go and meet Mrs.Graham."
"Have you got the money?" asked Mrs. Graham, anxiously, as Frank madehis appearance.
"Yes," replied Frank.
"How much?"
"The amount you asked for."
"That is well. Now I shall be able to relieve my poor daughter. I cannotbear to think of her and her poor children suffering for the lack ofbread, while I am living in luxury. I wish Mr. Graham was not sounforgiving."
"Will you take the money now?" asked Frank.
"I wish you to take fifty dollars to my daughter."
"I will do so with pleasure. What is her address?"
Mrs. Graham drew out a card, on which she had pencilled her daughter'saddress. It proved to be a tenement-house on the east side of the city,not far from Fourteenth street.
"I wish I could go myself," said Mrs. Graham, sadly; "but I do not dareto do so at present. Give Ellen this money, with my best love; and sayto her that a month hence I will again send her the same sum. Tell herto keep up good courage. Brighter days may be in store."
"I will be sure to remember," said Frank, in a tone of sympathy.
The errand was to his taste; for he was about to carry help and comfortto those who needed both.
CHAPTER XIX.
A MESSENGER OF GOOD TIDINGS.
There stands a large tenement-house on East Fourteenth street, fivestories in height, and with several entrances. Scores of barefooted andscantily attired children play in the halls or on the sidewalk in front,and the great building is a human hive, holding scores of families. Someof them, unaccustomed to live better, are tolerably content with theirsqualid and contracted accommodations; but a few, reduced by gradualsteps from respectability and comfort, find their positions very hard tobear.
On the third floor three small rooms were occupied by Mr. and Mrs.Robert Morgan, and their two children. She was the daughter of Mrs.Graham, and had been reared in affluence. How she had incurred herfather's displeasure has already been told. He had been taken sick somemonths before, his little stock of mo
ney had melted away, and now he wasunable even to pay the small expenses of life in a tenement-house.
Just before Frank made his appearance there was sadness in the littlehousehold.
"How much money is there left, Ellen?" asked Robert Morgan.
"Seventy-five cents," she answered, in a tone which she tried to makecheerful.
"And our week's rent will become due to-morrow."
"I may hear from mother," suggested Mrs. Morgan.
"If you don't, I don't know what will become of us all. We shall bethrust into the street. Even this squalid home will be taken from us."
"Don't get discouraged, Robert."
"Isn't there enough to make me despondent, Ellen? I can see now that Idid very wrong to marry you."
"Do you regret our marriage, then, Robert?" asked his wife.
"Only because it has brought you poverty and discomfort."
"I have not yet regretted it."
"How different a position you would have occupied if I had not draggedyou down! You would still be living in luxury."
"I should not have you and these dear children."
"And will they compensate you for what has come upon you?"
"Yes," she answered, emphatically.
"You have more philosophy than I have, Ellen."
"More trust, perhaps. Do you know, Robert, I think we are on the eve ofgood fortune?"
"I hope so, but I see no prospects of it."
Just then there was a knock at the door.
Thinking that it might be some humble neighbor, on a borrowingexpedition, Mrs. Morgan opened the door. Before her stood our hero inhis uniform.
"Is this Mrs. Robert Morgan?" asked Frank.
"Yes," she answered.
"I come from your mother."
"From my mother? Robert, do you hear that?" said the poor woman, in avoice of gladness. "Here is a messenger from my mother. Didn't I tellyou there was good luck in store for us?"
Mr. Morgan did not answer. He waited anxiously to hear what Frank had tocommunicate.
"Your mother sends you her love, and fifty dollars," continued Frank."She hopes to call soon herself."
"Fifty dollars!" exclaimed Ellen Morgan, in delight. "It is a fortune."
"Thank Heaven!" ejaculated her husband, in great relief.
"A month hence you may expect a similar sum," said Frank. "I suppose Ishall bring it. Shall I find you here?"
Ellen Morgan looked at her husband.
"No," said he. "Let us get out of this neighborhood as soon as possible.Can't you find a respectable place to-day?"
"Yes," said his wife. "I shall be glad to move. I saw some neat rooms onWest Twentieth street on Monday. They will cost us but little more, andwill suit us better."
"I will send my mother my new address," she said to Frank.
"Then you may send it under cover to me, and I will see that she gets itprivately," said Frank, who had received instructions to that effectfrom Mrs. Graham.
When Frank had left the room the little household seemed quitetransformed. Hope had entered, and all looked more cheerful.
"We are provided for, for two months, Robert," said his wife. "Is notthat a piece of good luck?"
"Yes, indeed it is," he answered heartily. "Before that time I can getto work again, and with health and employment I shall not need to askfavors of any one."
"I wish father were as forgiving as mother," said Ellen Morgan.
"Your father is a hard man. He will never forgive you for marrying apoor man. He would punish you by starvation."
"He is very proud," said Mrs. Morgan. "I was an only daughter, you know,and he had set his heart upon my making a brilliant marriage."
"As you might have done."
"As I did not care to do. I preferred to make a happy marriage with theman of my choice."
"You are a good wife, Ellen."
"I hope you will always find me so, Robert."
"I should have sunk utterly if you had been like some women."
In the afternoon Mrs. Morgan went out, taking one of her children withher. She went to the rooms on West Twentieth street, and, finding themstill vacant, secured them, paying a month's rent in advance, as hermother's timely gift enabled her to do. Before the next evening theywere installed in their new home, and Mrs. Morgan sent a note to hermother, under cover to Frank, apprising her of the removal.
Two days later Frank received a summons to the house on Madison avenue.He obeyed, thinking he should probably be sent with some message to Mrs.Morgan.
He found Mrs. Graham in a state of nervous excitement.
"My husband has been stricken with paralysis," she said. "It is terriblysudden. He went out yesterday, apparently in vigorous health. He wasbrought home pale and helpless."
"Can I do anything for him or you?" asked Frank.
"Yes; you can go at once to my daughter, and summon her to her father'sbedside."
Frank was surprised, remembering how obdurate Mrs. Graham had describedher husband to be.
"You look surprised," she said; "but sickness often produces a greatchange in us. My husband's pride has given way. His affection hasreturned; and it is at his request that I send for Ellen."
Frank had come to feel a personal interest in the family, and he gladlyset out for the modest home in West Twentieth street. He felt that itwas pleasant to be a messenger of reconciliation.
Mrs. Morgan recognized him at once, and received him cordially.
"Do you come from my mother?" she asked.
"Yes. She wishes you to come home at once."
"But--my father."
"Your father is very sick; and he joins in the request."
"It has come at last,--the time I have looked forward to for so long,"said Ellen Morgan, clasping her hands. "Robert, do you feel equal tolooking after the children while I am gone?"
"Yes, Ellen. Go at once. God grant that your father's heart may besoftened, for your sake. For myself I am content to live in poverty; butI don't like to see you suffer."
"What is the matter with father? Did my mother tell you?"
Frank explained, and thus gave her fresh cause for anxiety.
On reaching her father's chamber she was shocked by his changedappearance; but her heart was gladdened by the wan smile that lightedup his face, assuring her that she was welcome. From the doctor shereceived the assurance that her father was in no immediate danger.Indeed, he expressed a confident hope that Mr. Graham would rally fromhis present attack, and be able to go about his business again, thoughcaution would be required against undue excitement or fatigue.
The doctor's prediction was verified. Mr. Graham recovered; but his oldpride and obduracy did not come back. He became reconciled to hisson-in-law, and provided him a well-paid position in his own mercantileestablishment, and provided rooms in the Madison-avenue mansion for thelittle family whom Frank had first visited in the squalid tenement-housein Fourteenth street, and the glad voices of children made the house nolonger lonely.
"You must call and see us often," said Ellen Morgan to our hero. "Ishall always remember you as the messenger who brought us good tidingsat the darkest hour in our fortunes. We shall always welcome you as afriend."
CHAPTER XX.
A NEW JOB, AND A LETTER FROM HOME.
One morning an elderly gentleman entered the office in which Frank wasemployed, and sought an interview with the superintendent.
"I want a smart boy for detective work," he said. "Have you one you canrecommend?"
The superintendent cast his eyes over the line of boys, and calledFrank. Our hero's recognition of the disguised counterfeiter by his ringhad given him a reputation for shrewdness.
"I think this boy will suit you," he said. "Do you wish him to go withyou now?"
"Yes; I may want him a week."
"Very well."
Frank accompanied the gentleman into the street.
"Have you no other clothes except this uniform?" asked Mr. Hartley.
"Yes, sir."
"All right, sir."
"It is fortunate I have a good suit," thought Frank.
He was not long in exchanging his uniform for the neat suit given him byMr. Bowen. Thus attired, he presented himself in Mr. Hartley'scounting-room. The merchant surveyed him with approval.
THE MERCHANT SURVEYED WITH APPROVAL.]
"You will enter my service as errand-boy," he said. "You will be sent tothe post-office, the bank, and on similar errands, in order not toexcite suspicion of the real object of your presence. Keep your eyesopen, and I will take an opportunity of explaining to you later what Iwish you to do."
Frank bowed.
"Mr. Haynes," said the merchant, calling a thin, sallow young man, "Ihave engaged this boy as an errand-boy. Has any one been to thepost-office this morning?"
"No, sir."
"Then he will go."
Haynes regarded Frank with disfavor.
"I have a nephew who would have liked the position," he said.
"Too late now," said the merchant, curtly.
"What is your name, boy?" asked Haynes, coldly..
"Frank Kavanagh."
"How did Mr. Hartley happen to engage you?" asked the subordinate.
"A gentleman recommended me," Frank answered.
The Telegraph Boy Page 9