The Errand Boy; or, How Phil Brent Won Success

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The Errand Boy; or, How Phil Brent Won Success Page 11

by Horatio Alger, Jr.


  ”Have you got another place?“

  ”Do you ask because you feel interested in me?“ asked Phil.

  ”Well, not particularly,“ answered Alonzo appearing quite amused by the suggestion.

  ”Then you ask out of curiosity?“

  ”S'pose I do?“

  ”I don't mind telling you that I have found a place, then.“

  ”What sort of a place?“ asked Alonzo, disappointed.

  ”There is no need of going into particulars.“

  ”No. I s'pose not,“ sneered Alonzo. ”You're probably selling papers or blacking boots.“

  ”You are mistaken. I have a much better situation than I had with your father.“

  Alonzo's lower jaw fell. He was very sorry to hear it.

  ”Didn't your employer ask for a recommendation?“

  ”He didn't seem to think one necessary!“ replied Phil.

  ”If he'd known pa had sacked you, he wouldn't have wanted you, I guess.“

  ”He knows it. Have you got through asking questions, Alonzo?“

  ”You are too familiar. You can call me Mr. Pitkin.“

  Phil laughed at Alonzo's assumption of dignity, but made no comment upon it.

  ”I want to ask you what you did with that letter Mr. Carter gave you to post for me?“ asked Phil.

  Alonzo was indeed surprised, not to say dismayed. The truth was that, judging from the ”feel“ of the letter, it contained money, and he had opened it and appropriated the money to his own use. Moreover he had the bank-note in his pocket at that very moment, not having any wish to spend, but rather to hoard it.

  ”That's a queer question,“ he stammered. ”What letter do you refer to?“

  ”A letter Mr. Carter gave you to mail to me.“

  ”If he gave me any such letter I mailed it,“ answered Alonzo, scarcely knowing what to say.

  ”I didn't receive it.“

  ”How do you know he gave me any letter?“ demanded Alonzo, puzzled.

  ”I don't care to tell. I only know that there was such a letter handed to you. Do you know what was in it?“

  ”Writing, I s'pose,“ said Alonzo flippantly.

  ”Yes, there was, but there was also a ten-dollar bill. I didn't receive the letter,“ and Phil fixed his eyes searchingly upon the face of Alonzo.

  ”That's a pretty story!“ said Alonzo. ”I don't believe Uncle Oliver would be such a fool as to send you ten dollars. If he did, you got it, and now want to get as much more, pretending you haven't received it.“

  ”You are mistaken,“ said Phil quietly.

  ”If you didn't get the letter, how do you know any was written, and that there was anything in it?“ asked Alonzo triumphantly, feeling that the question was a crusher.“

  ”I don't care to tell you how I know it. Do you deny it?“

  ”I don't remember whether Uncle Oliver gave me any letter or not.“

  ”Will you be kind enough to give me his address in Florida, so that I may write to him and find out?“

  ”No, I won't,“ said Alonzo angrily, ”and I think you are very cheeky to ask such a thing. Ma was right when she said that you were the most impudent boy she ever came across.“

  ”That's enough, Alonzo,“ said Phil quietly. ”I've found out all I wanted to.“

  ”What have you found out?“ asked Alonzo, his tone betraying some apprehension.

  ”Never mind. I think I know what became of that letter.“

  ”Do you mean to say I opened it and took out the money?“ demanded Alonzo, reddening.

  ”I wouldn't charge anybody with such a mean act, unless I felt satisfied of it.“

  ”You'd better not!“ said Alonzo, in a bullying tone. ”If I find out who you're working for, I'll let him know that pa bounced you.“

  ”Just as you please! I don't think that any words of yours will injure me with the gentleman I have the good fortune to work for.“

  ”Don't you be too sure! If you think he wouldn't mind a boy, I'll refer him to pa and ma. They'll give you a good setting out.“

  ”I don't doubt it,“ said Phil indifferently, and turned to go away.

  He was called back by Alonzo, who had not quite satisfied his curiosity.

  ”Say, are you boarding with that woman who came to see ma the same day you were at the house?“ he asked.

  ”No; I have left her.“

  Alonzo looked well pleased. He knew that his mother felt rather uneasy at the two being together, dreading lest they should make a concerted attempt to ingratiate themselves with her rich uncle.

  ”Ma says she behaved very badly,“ Alonzo could not help adding.

  ”Mrs. Forbush is an excellent Lady,“ said Phil warmly, for he could not hear one of his friends spoken against.

  ”Lady! She's as poor as poverty,“ sneered Alonzo.

  ”She is none the worse for that.“

  ”Uncle Oliver can't bear her!“

  ”Indeed!“ said Phil; pausing to see what else Alonzo would say.

  ”Ma says she disgraced herself, and all her relations gave her up. When you see her tell her she had better not come sneaking round the house again.“

  ”If you will write a letter to that effect, I will see that she gets it,“ said Phil. ”That letter won't miscarry.“

  ”I don't care to take any notice of her,“ said Alonzo loftily.

  ”You are very kind to have wasted so much notice upon me,“ said Phil, amused.

  Alonzo did not see fit to answer this, but walked away with his head in the air. He was, however, not quite easy in mind.

  ”How in the world,“ he asked himself, ”could that boy have found out that Uncle Oliver gave me a letter to post? If he should learn that I opened it and took the money, there'd be a big fuss. I guess I'd better not meet him again. If I see him any day I'll go in a different direction. He's so artful he may get me into trouble.“

  It is needless to say that neither Mr. or Mrs. Pitkin knew of Alonzo's tampering with the letter. Much as they would have been opposed to Phil's receiving such a letter, they would have been too wise to sanction such a bold step.

  ”Well,“ said Mr. Carter, when Phil returned, ”did you see Rebecca--Mrs. Forbush?“

  ”Yes, sir, and handed her the money. She was overjoyed; not so much at receiving so generous a sum as at learning that you were reconciled to her.“

  ”Poor girl!“ said the old man, forgetting that she was now a worn woman. ”I am afraid that she must have suffered much.“

  ”She has met with many hardships, sir, but she won't mind them now.“

  ”If I live her future shall be brighter than her past. I will call to-morrow. You, Philip, shall go with me.“

  ”I should like to do so, sir. By the way, I met Alonzo on Broadway.“

  He detailed the conversation that had taken place between them.

  ”I am afraid he took the money,“ said Mr. Carter. ”I am sorry any relative of mine should have acted in that way. Let him keep it. Any benefit he may derive from it will prove to have been dearly purchased.“

  CHAPTER XXVI.

  A WONDERFUL CHANGE.

  YOU MAY order a carriage, Philip,“ said Mr. Carter the next morning. ”Pick out a handsome one with seats for four.“

  ”Yes, sir.“

  In five minutes the carriage was at the door.

  ”Now, Philip, we will go to see my long-neglected niece, Mrs. Forbush. Give the driver the necessary directions.“

  ”Mrs. Forbush does not have many carriage-callers,“ said Philip, smiling.

  ”Perhaps she will have more hereafter,“ said Mr. Carter, ”I ought not so long to have lost sight of her. I always liked Rebecca better than Lavinia, yet I let the latter prejudice me against her cousin, who is in disposition, education and sincerity her superior. You see, Philip, there are old fools in the world as well as young ones.“

  ”It is never too late to mend, Mr. Carter,“ said Phil, smiling.

  ”That's very true, even if it is a young philo
sopher who says it.“

  ”I don't claim any originality for it, Mr. Carter.“

  ”By the way, Philip, I have noticed that you always express yourself very correctly. Your education must be good.“

  ”Yes, sir, thanks to my father, or the man whom I always regarded as my father. I am a fair Latin scholar, and know something of Greek.“

  ”Were you preparing for college?“ asked Mr. Carter, with interest.

  ”Yes, sir.“

  ”Would you like to go?“

  ”I should have gone had father lived, but my step-mother said it was foolishness and would be money thrown away.“

  ”Perhaps she preferred to incur that expense for her own son?“ suggested the old gentleman.

  ”Jonas wouldn't consent to that. He detests study, and would decidedly object to going to college.“

  ”By the way, you haven't heard from them lately?“

  ”Only that they have left our old home and gone no one knows where.“

  ”That is strange.“

  By this time they had reached the humble dwelling occupied by Mrs. Forbush.

  ”And so this is where Rebecca lives?“ said Mr. Carter.

  ”Yes, sir. It is not quite so nice as Mrs. Pitkin's.“

  ”No,“ returned Mr. Carter thoughtfully.

  Philip rang the bell, and the two were admitted into the humble parlor. They had not long to wait for Mrs. Forbush, who, with an agitation which she could not overcome, entered the presence of her long estranged and wealthy uncle.

  ”Rebecca!“ exclaimed the old gentleman, rising, and showing some emotion as he saw the changes which fifteen years had made in the niece whom he had last met as a girl.

  ”Uncle Oliver! how kind you are to visit me!“ cried Mrs. Forbush, the tears starting from her eyes.

  ”Kind! Nonsense! I have been very unkind to neglect you so long. But it wasn't all my fault. There were others who did all they could to keep us apart. You have lost your husband?“

  ”Yes, uncle. He was poor, but he was one of the kindest and best of men, and made me happy.“

  ”I begin to think I have been an old fool, Rebecca. Philip thinks so, too.“

  ”Oh, Mr. Carter!“ exclaimed our hero.

  ”Yes, you do, Philip,“ asserted Mr. Carter, ”and you are quite right. However, as you told me, it is never too late to mend.“

  ”Mrs. Forbush will think I take strange liberties with you, sir.“

  ”I don't object to good advice, even from a boy. But who is this?“

  Julia had just entered the room. She was a bright, attractive girl, but held back bashfully until her mother said:

  ”Julia, this is Uncle Oliver Carter. You have heard me speak of him.“

  ”Yes, mamma.“

  ”And scold about him, I dare say. Well, Julia, come and give your old uncle a kiss.

  Julia blushed, but obeyed her uncle's request.

  ”I should know she was your child, Rebecca. She looks as you did at her age. Now tell me, have you any engagement this morning, you two?“

  ”No, Uncle Oliver.“

  ”Then I will find one for you. I have a carriage at the door. You will please put on your bonnets. We are going shopping.“

  ”Shopping?“

  ”Yes, I am going to fit out both of you in a manner more befitting relatives of mine. The fact is, Niece Rebecca, you are actually shabby.“

  ”I know it, uncle, but there has been so many ways of spending money that I have had to neglect my dress.

  ”Very likely. I understand. Things are different now. Now, don't be over an hour getting ready!“

  ”We are not fashionable, uncle,“ said Mrs. Forbush, ”and we haven't any change to make.“

  They entered the carriage, and drove to a large and fashionable store, where everything necessary to a lady's toilet, including dresses quite complete, could be obtained. Mrs. Forbush was in favor of selecting very plain articles, but her uncle overruled her, and pointed out costumes much more costly.

  ”But, uncle,“ objected Mrs. Forbush, ”these things won't at all correspond with our plain home and mode of living. Think of a boarding-house keeper arrayed like a fine lady.“

  ”You are going to give up taking boarders--that is, you will have none but Philip and myself.“

  ”Will you really live with us, uncle? But the house is too poor.“

  ”Of course it is, but you are going to move. I will speak further on this point when you are through your purchases.“

  At length the shopping was over, and they re- entered the carriage.

  ”Drive to No.-- Madison Avenue,“ said Mr. Carter to the driver.

  ”Uncle Oliver, you have given the wrong direction.“

  ”No, Rebecca, I know what I am about.“

  ”Do you live on Madison Avenue?“ asked Mrs. Forbush.

  ”I am going to and so are you. You must know that I own a furnished house on Madison Avenue. The late occupants sailed for Europe last week, and I was looking out for a tenant when I found you. You will move there to-morrow, and act as house keeper, taking care of Philip and myself. I hope Julia and you will like it as well as your present home.“

  ”How can I thank you for all your kindness, Uncle Oliver?“ said Mrs. Forbush, with joyful tears. ”It will be living once more. It will be such a rest from the hard struggle I have had of late years.“

  ”You can repay me by humoring all my whims,“ said Uncle Oliver, smiling. ”You will find me very tyrannical. The least infraction of my rules will lead me to send you all packing.“

  ”Am I to be treated in the same way, Mr. Carter?“ asked Philip.

  ”Exactly.“

  ”Then, if you discharge me, I will fly for refuge to Mr. Pitkin.“

  ”That will be `out of the frying-pan into the fire' with a vengeance.“

  By this time they had reached the house. It was an elegant brown-stone front, and proved, on entrance, to be furnished in the most complete and elegant manner. Mr. Carter selected the second floor for his own use; a good-sized room on the third was assigned to Philip, and Mrs. Forbush was told to select such rooms for Julia and herself as she desired.

  ”This is much finer than Mrs. Pitkin's house,“ said Philip.

  ”Yes, it is.“

  ”She will be jealous when she hears of it.“

  ”No doubt. That is precisely what I desire. It will be a fitting punishment for her treatment of her own cousin.“

  It was arranged that on the morrow Mrs. Forbush and Julia should close their small house, leaving directions to sell the humble furniture at auction, while Mr. Carter and Philip would come up from the Astor House.

  ”What will the Pitkins say when they hear of it?“ thought Philip. ”I am afraid they will feel bad.“

  CHAPTER XXVII.

  AN UNPLEASANT SURPRISE.

  WHILE these important changes were occurring in the lives of Philip Brent and the poor cousin, Mrs. Pitkin remained in blissful ignorance of what was going on. Alonzo had told her of his encounter with Phil on Broadway and the intelligence our hero gave him of his securing a place.

  ”You may rest assured the boy was lying, Lonny,“ said Mrs. Pitkin. ”Boys don't get places so easily, especially when they can't give a recommendation from their last employer.

  ”That's just what I thought, ma,“ said Alonzo.

  ”Still Phil looked in good spirits, and he was as saucy as ever.“

  ”I can believe the last very well, Lonny. The boy is naturally impertinent. They were probably put on to deceive you.“

  ”But how does he get money to pay his way?“ said Alonzo puzzled.

  ”As to that, he is probably selling papers or blacking boots in the lower part of the city. He could make enough to live on, and of course he wouldn't let you know what he was doing.“

  ”I hope you're right, ma. I'd give ever so much to catch him blacking boots in City Hall Park, or anywhere else; I'd give him a job. Wouldn't he feel mortified to be caught?“

&n
bsp; ”No doubt he would.“

  ”I've a great mind to go down town to-morrow and look about for him.“

  ”Very well, Lonny. You may to if you want to.“

  Alonzo did go; but he looked in vain for Phil. The latter was employed in doing some writing and attending to some accounts for Mr. Carter, who had by this time found that his protege was thoroughly well qualified for such work.

  So nearly a week passed. It so chanced that though Uncle Oliver had now been in New York a considerable time, not one of the Pitkins had met him or had reason to suspect that he was nearer than Florida.

  One day, however, among Mrs. Pitkin's callers was Mrs. Vangriff, a fashionable acquaintance.

  ”Mr. Oliver Carter is your uncle, I believe?“ said the visitor.

  ”Yes.“

  ”I met him on Broadway the other day. He was looking very well.“

  ”It must have been a fortnight since, then. Uncle Oliver is in Florida.“

  ”In Florida!“ repeated Mrs. Vangriff, in surprise.

  ”When did he go?“

  ”When was it, Lonny?“ asked Mrs. Pitkin, appealing to her son.

  ”It will be two weeks next Thursday.“

  ”There must be some mistake,“ said the visitor.

  ”I saw Mr. Carter on Broadway, near Twentieth Street, day before yesterday.“

  ”Quite a mistake, I assure you, Mrs. Vangriff,“ said Mrs. Pitkin, smiling. ”It was some other person. You were deceived by a fancied resemblance.“

  ”It is you who are wrong, Mrs. Pitkin,“ said Mrs. Vangriff, positively. ”I am somewhat acquainted with Mr. Carter, and I stopped to speak with him.“

  ”Are you sure of this?“ asked Mrs. Pitkin, looking startled.

  ”Certainly, I am sure of it.“

  ”Did you call him by name?“

  ”Certainly; and even inquired after you. He answered that he believed you were well. I thought he was living with you?“

  ”So he was,“ answered Mrs. Pitkin coolly as possible, considering the startling nature of the information she had received. ”Probably Uncle Oliver returned sooner than he anticipated, and was merely passing through the city. He has important business interests at the West.“

  ”I don't think he was merely passing through the city, for a friend of mine saw him at the Fifth Avenue Theater last evening.“

 

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