The Young Musician; Or, Fighting His Way

by Jr. Horatio Alger

  "I don't doubt it," returned Philip, smiling.

  "Well, as I was about to say, we may as well go back to the hotel, andawait the course of events. I think there is some chance of your gettingyour money back."

  When they reached the hotel, they found a surprise in store for them.

  Sam had carried the professor's wallet to Mr. Perry, and been told bythem to wait and hand it in person to Philip and his friend, Mr. Gates,who were then at the depot.

  When they arrived, Sam was waiting on the stoop, wallet in hand.

  "What have you got there, Sam?" asked Mr. Gates, who often came toKnoxville, and knew the boy. "It's the wallet of that man you wereafter," said Sam.

  "How did you get it?" asked Philip eagerly.

  "I chased him 'cross lots," said Sam.

  "You didn't knock him over and take the wallet from him, did you, Sam?"asked Mr. Gates.

  "Not so bad as that," answered Sam, grinning. "You see, he tripped overa big rock, and came down on his hands and knees. The wallet jumpedout of his pocket, but he didn't see it. I picked it up and brought ithome."

  "Didn't he know you were chasing him?"

  "I guess not. He never looked back."

  "What made you think of running after him?"

  "One of the girls told me to. The way he ran out of the back door madeher think there was something wrong."

  "Suppose he had turned round?"

  "I guess I could have wrastled with him," said Sam, to the amusement ofthose who heard him.

  "It is well you were not obliged to."

  "Who shall I give the wallet to?" asked Sam.

  "Mr. Gray, here, is the professor's partner, and half the money belongsto him. You can give it to him."

  "Have I a right to take it?" asked Philip, who did not wish to doanything unlawful.

  He was assured that, as the business partner of the professor, he had asmuch right as Riccabocca to the custody of the common fund.

  "But half of it belongs to the professor."

  "He'll come back for it, in the custody of the sheriff. I didn't think Iwas doing the man a good turn when I telegraphed to have him stopped."

  The first thing Philip did was to take from his own funds a five-dollarbill, which he tendered to Sam.

  "Is it all for me?" asked the boy, his eyes sparkling his joy.

  "Yes; but for you I should probably have lost a good deal more. Thankyou, besides."

  And Philip offered his hand to Sam, who grasped it fervently.

  "I say, you're a tip-top chap," said Sam. "You ain't like a man thatlost a pocketbook last summer, with a hundred dollars in it, and gave mefive cents for finding it."

  "No; I hope I'm not as mean as that," said Philip, smiling.

  He opened the wallet and found a memorandum containing an exactstatement of the proceeds of the concert. This was of great service tohim, as it enabled him to calculate his own share of the profits.

  The aggregate receipts were one hundred and fifty dollars and fiftycents. Deducting bills paid, viz.:

  Rent of hall........................ $5.00

  Printing, etc........................ 5.00

  Bill-poster......................... 1.00

  Total...........................$11.00

  there was a balance of $138.50, of which Philip was entitled toone-half, namely, $69.25. This he took, together with the eleven dollarswhich he had himself paid to the creditors of the combination, andhanded the wallet, with the remainder of the money, to Mr. Perry,landlord of the Knoxville Hotel, with a request that he would keep ittill called for by Professor Riccabocca.

  "You may hand me three dollars and a half, Mr. Perry," said Mr. Gates."That is the amount the professor owes me for a day and three-quartersat my hotel. If he makes a fuss, you can tell him he is quite at libertyto go to law about it."

  Meanwhile, where was the professor, and when did he discover his loss?

  After the train was a mile or two on its way he felt in his pocket forthe wallet, meaning to regale himself with a sight of its contents--now,as he considered, all his own.

  Thrusting his hand into his pocket, it met--vacancy.

  Pale with excitement, he continued his search, extending it to all hisother pockets. But the treasure had disappeared!

  Professor Riccabocca was panic-stricken. He could hardly suppress agroan.

  A good woman sitting opposite, judging from his pallor that he was ill,leaned over and asked, in a tone of sympathy:

  "Are you took sick?"

  "No, ma'am," answered the professor sharply.

  "You look as if you was goin' to have a fit," continued the sympathizingwoman. "Jest take some chamomile tea the first chance you get. It's thesovereignest thing I know of--"

  "Will chamomile tea bring back a lost pocket-book?" demanded theprofessor sharply.

  "Oh, Lor'! you don't say you lost your money?"

  "Yes, I do!" said Riccabocca, glaring at her.

  "Oh, dear! do you think there's pickpockets in the car?" asked the oldlady nervously.

  "Very likely," answered the professor tragically.

  The good woman kept her hand in her pocket all the rest of the way,eyeing all her fellow passengers sharply.

  But the professor guessed the truth. He had lost his wallet when hestumbled in the field. He was in a fever of impatience to return andhunt for it. Instead of going on to Chambersburg, he got out at thenext station--five miles from Knoxville--and walked back on therailroad-track. So it happened that the telegram did no good.

  The professor walked back to the hotel across the fields, huntingdiligently, but saw nothing of the lost wallet. He entered the hotel,footsore, weary, and despondent. The first person he saw was Philip,sitting tranquilly in the office.

  "Did you just come down from your room?" asked our hero coolly.

  "I am a most unfortunate man!" sighed Riccabocca, sinking into a seat.

  "What's the matter?"

  "I've lost all our money."

  "I am glad you say 'our money.' I began to think you considered it allyours. Didn't I see you on the train?"

  "I had a bad headache," stammered the professor, "and I didn't know whatI was doing."

  "Does riding in the cars benefit your head?"

  Professor Riccabocca looked confused.

  "The wallet was found," said Philip, not wishing to keep him any longerin suspense.

  "Where is it?" asked the professor eagerly.

  "Mr. Perry will give it to you. I have taken out my share of the money,and Mr. Gates has received the amount of his bill. It would have beenbetter for you to attend to these matters yourself like an honest man."

  Professor Riccabocca was so overjoyed to have back his own money thathe made no fuss about Philip's proceedings. Indeed, his own intendeddishonesty was so apparent that it would have required even moreassurance than he possessed to make a protest.

  CHAPTER XXXIV. A NEW BUSINESS PROPOSAL.

  Professor Riccabocca put the wallet in his pocket with a sigh ofsatisfaction. There were still sixty dollars or more in it, and it waslong since he had been so rich.

  He began to think now that it might be well to revive the combination.There was some doubt, however, as to how Philip would receive theproposal.

  He looked at his young partner and was not much encouraged. He felt thathe must conciliate him.

  "Mr. de Gray," he began.

  "Call me Gray. My name is not de Gray."

  "Well, Mr. Gray, then. I hope you don't have any hard feelings."

  "About what?" inquired Philip, surveying the professor curiously.

  "About--the past," stammered the professor.

  "You mean about your running off with my money?" returned Philipplainly.

  Professor Riccabocca winced. He did not quite like this form ofstatement. "I am afraid you misjudge me," he said, rather confused.

  "I shall be glad to listen to any explanation you have to offer," saidour hero.

  "I will explain it all to you, in time," s
aid the professor, recoveringhis old assurance. "In the meantime, I have a proposition to make toyou."

  "What is it?"

  "Suppose we give an entertainment in Knoxville--on the same terms as thelast."

  "I shouldn't think you would like to appear before an audience here,Professor Riccabocca."

  "Why not?"

  "Before night everybody will have heard of your running away with theproceeds of the last concert."

  "Public men are always misjudged. They must expect it," said theprofessor, with the air of a martyr.

  "I should think you would be more afraid of being justly judged."

  "Mr. Gray," said the professor, "I have done wrong, I admit; but it wasunder the influence of neuralgia. When I have a neuralgic headache, I amnot myself. I do things which, in a normal condition, I should not dreamof. I am the victim of a terrible physical malady."

  Philip did not believe a word of this, but he felt amused at theprofessor's singular excuse.

  "Come, Mr. Gray, what do you say?"

  "I think I must decline," returned Philip.

  But here Professor Riccabocca received unexpected help.

  Mr. Perry, the landlord, who had listened to the colloquy, approachedthe two speakers and said:

  "Gentlemen, I have a proposal to make to you both."

  Both Philip and the professor looked up, with interest.

  "Some of the young men in the village," said the landlord, "have formeda literary club, meeting weekly. They have hired and furnished a roomover one of our stores, provided it with, games and subscribed for a fewperiodicals. They find, however, that the outlay has been greaterthan they anticipated and are in debt. I have been talking withthe secretary, and he thinks he would like to engage you to give anentertainment, the proceeds, beyond a fixed sum, to go to the benefit ofthe club. What do you say?"

  "When is it proposed to have the entertainment?" asked Philip.

  "I suppose we should have to name to-morrow evening, in order toadvertise it sufficiently."

  "I am willing to make any engagement that will suit the club," saidPhilip.

  "And I, too," said Professor Riccabocca.

  "The secretary authorizes me to offer you ten dollars each, and to payyour hotel expenses in the meantime," said Mr. Perry.

  "That is satisfactory," said our hero.

  "I agree," said the professor.

  "Then I will at once notify the secretary, and he will take steps toadvertise the entertainment."

  Ten dollars was a small sum compared with what Philip had obtained forhis evening in Wilkesville, but a week since he would have regarded itas very large for one week's work. He felt that it was for his interestto accept the proposal.

  He secretly resolved that if the entertainment should not prove assuccessful as was anticipated, he would give up a part of the sum whichwas promised him for his services.

  Professor Riccabocca assented the more readily to the proposal, becausehe thought it might enable him again to form a business alliance withour hero, from whom his conduct had estranged him.

  "Suppose we take a room together, Mr. de Gray," he said, with aningratiating smile.

  "Gray, if you please, professor. I don't like sailing under falsecolors."

  "Excuse me; the force of habit, you know. Well, do you agree?"

  "The professor has more assurance than any man I ever heard of," thoughtPhilip. "You must excuse me, professor," he said. "After what hashappened, I should feel safer in a room by myself."

  "Why will you dwell upon the past, Mr. Gray?" said the professorreproachfully.

  "Because I am prudent, and learn from experience," answered Philip.

  "I assure you, you will have nothing to complain of," said Riccaboccaearnestly. "If we are together, we can consult about the program."

  "We shall have plenty of time to do that during the day, professor."

  "Then you don't care to room with me?" said Riccabocca, lookingdisappointed.

  "No, I don't."

  "What are you afraid of?"

  "I am afraid you might have an attack of neuralgic headache during thenight," said Philip, laughing.

  Professor Riccabocca saw that it would be of no use for him to press therequest, and allowed himself to be conducted to the same room which hehad so unceremoniously left a short time before.

  During the afternoon, Philip had a call from John Turner, the secretaryof the Young Men's Club. He was a pleasant, straightforward young man,of perhaps twenty.

  "We are very much obliged to you, Mr. Gray," he said, "for kindlyconsenting to play for our benefit."

  "It is for my interest," said Philip frankly. "I may as well remain hereand earn ten dollars as to be idle."

  "But you made a great deal more, I understand, in Wilkesville?"

  "Yes; but I might not be as fortunate here. I had not intended to appearhere at all, and should not have done so unless you had invited me. Howmany have you in your club?"

  "Only about twenty-five, so far, and some of us are not able to paymuch."

  "How long has your club been formed?" asked Philip.

  "Only about three months. We wanted a place where we could meet togethersocially in the evening, and have a good time. Before, we had only thestores and barrooms to go to, and there we were tempted to drink. Ourclub was started in the interests of temperance, and we can see alreadythat it is exerting a good influence."

  "Then I am very glad to assist you," said Philip cordially.

  "You must come round and see our room. Are you at leisure now?"

  "Yes, Mr. Turner."

  Philip accompanied his new friend to the neatly furnished room leased bythe society. He was so well pleased with its appearance that he thoughthe should himself like to belong to such an association, whenever hefound a permanent home. At present he was only a wanderer.

  "Our debt is thirty-four dollars," said the secretary. "You may notthink it large, but it's large for us."

  "I hope our entertainment will enable you to clear it off."

  "If it should it will give us new courage."

  On the evening of the next day Philip and the professor entered the hallengaged for the entertainment, and took seats on the platform.

  The hall was well filled, the scale of prices being the same as atWilkesville.

  "Mr. Gray," whispered the secretary joyfully, "it is a great success!After paying all bills the club will clear fifty dollars."

  "I am delighted to hear it," said Philip.

  The professor commenced the entertainment, and was followed by Philip.

  As Philip began to play his attention was drawn to three persons whowere entering the hall.

  These were a lady, a little girl, and a stout gentleman, in whom Philip,almost petrified with amazement, recognized his old acquaintance, SquirePope, of Norton, who had shown himself so anxious to provide him a homein the poor-house.

  CHAPTER XXXV. SQUIRE POPE IS AMAZED.

  Though Philip did not know it, it chanced that Squire Pope's onlysister, Mrs. Cunningham, lived in Knoxville. She was a widow, fairlywell off, with a young daughter, Carrie--a girl of twelve. Squire Popehad long thought of visiting his sister, and happening about this timeto have a little business in a town near-by, he decided to carry outhis long-deferred plan. He arrived by the afternoon train, in time forsupper.

  "I am glad you are here to-night, brother," said Mrs. Cunningham.

  "Why particularly to-night, Sister Ellen?" asked the squire.

  "Because there is to be an entertainment for the benefit of the YoungMen's Literary Club. It is expected to be very interesting."

  "What sort of an entertainment, Ellen?" asked the squire.

  "The celebrated elocutionist, Professor Riccabocca, is to give somereadings--"

  "Riccabocca!" repeated the squire, in a musing tone. "I can't say I everheard of him."

  "Nor I; but I hear he's very celebrated."

  "Is there anything else?"

  "Yes, there's a young musician going to play.
He is said to bewonderful. He plays on the violin."

  "He's a very handsome boy," said Carrie enthusiastically. "He's stayingat the hotel. I saw him this afternoon when I was passing."

  "So he's good-looking, is he, Carrie?" asked the squire, laughing.

  "He's ever so good-looking," answered Carrie emphatically.

  "Then we must certainly go, for Carrie's sake," said the squire.

  Squire Pope had not the slightest idea that the young musician, aboutwhom his niece spoke so enthusiastically, was the boy whom he had sorecently persecuted.

  If Carrie had mentioned his name, the secret would have been out, butshe had not yet heard it.

  In honor of her brother's arrival, Mrs. Cunningham prepared a moreelaborate supper than usual, and to this it was owing that the threeentered the hall late, just as Philip was about to commence playing.

  The squire and his companions were obliged to take seats some distanceaway from the platform, and as his eyesight was poor, he didn'timmediately recognize as an old acquaintance the boy who was standingbefore the audience with his violin in his hand.

  "That's he! That's the young violin-player!" whispered Carrie, in a toneof delight. "Isn't he handsome, uncle!"

  "Wait till I get my glasses on," said the squire, fumbling in his pocketfor his spectacle-case.