CHAPTER II
MRS. FOWLER'S STORY
"Not my mother!" he exclaimed. "Who, then, is my mother?"
"I cannot tell you, Frank. I never knew. You will forgive me forconcealing this from you for so long."
"No matter who was my real mother since I have you. You have been amother to me, and I shall always think of you as such."
"You make me happy, Frank, when you say that. And you will look uponGrace as a sister also, will you not?"
"Always," said the boy, emphatically. "Mother, will you tell all youknow about me? I don't know what to think; now that I am not your son Icannot rest till I learn who I am."
"I can understand your feelings, Frank, but I must defer the explanationtill to-morrow. I have fatigued myself with talking, but to-morrow youshall know all that I can tell you."
"Forgive me for not thinking of your being tired, mother," and he bentover and pressed his lips upon the cheek of the sick woman. "But don'ttalk any more. Wait till to-morrow."
In the afternoon Frank had a call from Sam Pomeroy.
"The club is to play to-morrow afternoon against a picked nine, Frank,"he said. "Will you be there?"
"I can't, Sam," he answered. "My mother is very sick, and it is my dutyto stay at home with her."
"We shall miss you--that is, all of us but one. Tom Pinkerton saidyesterday that you ought to resign, as you can't attend to your duties.He wouldn't object to filling your place, I fancy."
"He is welcome to the place as soon as the club feels like electinghim," said Frank. "Tell the boys I am sorry I can't be on hand. They hadbetter get you to fill my place."
"I'll mention it, but I don't think they'll see it in that light.They're all jealous of my superior playing," said Sam, humorously."Well, good-bye, Frank. I hope your mother'll be better soon."
"Thank you, Sam," answered Frank, soberly. "I hope so, too, but she isvery sick."
The next day Mrs. Fowler again called Frank to the bedside.
"Grace is gone out on an errand," she said, "and I can find no bettertime for telling you what I know about you and the circumstances whichled to my assuming the charge of you."
"Are you strong enough, mother?"
"Yes, Frank. Thirteen years ago my husband and myself occupied asmall tenement in that part of Brooklyn know as Gowanus, not far fromGreenwood Cemetery. My husband was a carpenter, and though his wageswere small he was generally employed. We had been married three years,but had no children of our own. Our expenses were small, and we got oncomfortably, and should have continued to do so, but that Mr. Fowlermet with an accident which partially disabled him. He fell from a highscaffold and broke his arm. This was set and he was soon able to workagain, but he must also have met with some internal injury, for his fullstrength never returned. Half a day's work tired him more than awhole day's work formerly had done. Of course our income was very muchdiminished, and we were obliged to economize very closely. This preyedupon my husband's mind and seeing his anxiety, I set about consideringhow I could help him, and earn my share of the expenses.
"One day in looking over the advertising columns of a New York paper Isaw the following advertisement:
"'For adoption--A healthy male infant. The parents are able to payliberally for the child's maintenance, but circumstances compel them todelegate the care to another. Address for interview A. M.'
"I had no sooner read this advertisement than I felt that it was justwhat I wanted. A liberal compensation was promised, and under ourpresent circumstances would be welcome, as it was urgently needed. Imentioned the matter to my husband, and he was finally induced to givehis consent.
"Accordingly, I replied to the advertisement.
"Three days passed in which I heard nothing from it. But as we weresitting at the supper table at six o'clock one afternoon, there came aknock at our front door. I opened it, and saw before me a tall stranger,a man of about thirty-five, of dark complexion, and dark whiskers. Hewas well dressed, and evidently a gentleman in station.
"'Is this Mrs. Fowler?' he asked.
"'Yes, sir,' I answered, in some surprise
"'Then may I beg permission to enter your house for a few minutes? Ihave something to say to you.'
"Still wondering, I led the way into the sitting-room, where yourfather--where Mr. Fowler----"
"Call him my father--I know no other," said Frank.
"Where your father was seated.
"'You have answered an advertisement,' said the stranger.
"'Yes, sir,' I replied.
"'I am A. M.,' was his next announcement. 'Of course I have receivedmany letters, but on the whole I was led to consider yours mostfavorably. I have made inquiries about you in the neighborhood, and theanswers have been satisfactory. You have no children of your own?'
"'No, sir.'
"'All the better. You would be able to give more attention to thischild.'
"'Is it yours, sir?' I asked
"'Ye-es,' he answered, with hesitation. 'Circumstances,' he continued,'circumstances which I need not state, compel me to separate from it.Five hundred dollars a year will be paid for its maintenance.'
"Five hundred dollars! I heard this with joy, for it was considerablymore than my husband was able to earn since his accident. It would makeus comfortable at once, and your father might work when he pleased,without feeling any anxiety about our coming to want.
"'Will that sum be satisfactory?' asked the stranger.
"'It is very liberal,' I answered.
"'I intended it to be so,' he said. 'Since there is no difficulty onthis score, I am inclined to trust you with the care of the child. But Imust make two conditions.'
"'What are they, sir?'
"'In the first place, you must not try to find out the friends of thechild. They do not desire to be known. Another thing, you must move fromBrooklyn.'
"'Move from Brooklyn?' I repeated.
"'Yes,' he answered, firmly. 'I do not think it necessary to give you areason for this condition. Enough that it is imperative. If you decline,our negotiations are at an end.'
"I looked at my husband. He seemed as much surprised as I was.
"'Perhaps you will wish to consult together,' suggested our visitor.'If so, I can give you twenty minutes. I will remain in this room whileyou go out and talk it over.'
"We acted on this hint, and went into the kitchen. We decided thatthough we should prefer to live in Brooklyn, it would be worth our whileto make the sacrifice for the sake of the addition to our income. Wecame in at the end of ten minutes, and announced our decision. Ourvisitor seemed to be very much pleased.
"'Where would you wish us to move?' asked your father.
"'I do not care to designate any particular place. I should prefer somesmall country town, from fifty to a hundred miles distant. I suppose youwill be able to move soon?'
"'Yes, sir; we will make it a point to do so. How soon will the childbe placed in our hands? Shall we send for it?'
"'No, no,' he said, hastily. 'I cannot tell you exactly when, but itwill be brought here probably in the course of a day or two. I myselfshall bring it, and if at that time you wish to say anything additionalyou can do so.'
"He went away, leaving us surprised and somewhat excited at the changethat was to take place in our lives. The next evening the sound ofwheels was heard, and a hack stopped at our gate. The same gentlemandescended hurriedly with a child in his arms--you were the child,Frank--and entered the house.
"'This is the child,' he said, placing it in my arms, 'and here is thefirst quarterly installment of your pay. Three months hence you willreceive the same sum from my agent in New York. Here is his address,'and he placed a card in my hands. 'Have you anything to ask?'
"'Suppose I wish to communicate with you respecting the child? Supposehe is sick?'
"'Then write to A. M., care of Giles Warner, No. ---- Nassau Street.By the way, it will be necessary for you to send him your postofficeaddress after your removal in order that he may send you your quarte
rlydues.'
"With this he left us, entered the hack, and drove off. I have neverseen him since."
The Cash Boy Page 2