Bound to Succeed; or, Mail Order Frank's Chances

by Robert Sidney Bowen

  CHAPTER VI

  “MAIL ORDER FRANK”

  At the outcry from beyond the window of the little sitting-room, thedog, Christmas, became fairly frantic. Seizing him by the collar,however, Frank gave him a stern word. Wont to obey, the animal retreatedto one side of the room, but still growling, and his fur bristling.

  Frank instantly caught up the lamp from the table and carried it tothe window. His mother peered out in a startled way at the scene nowilluminated without.

  “Why, it is Mr. Dorsett!” she exclaimed.

  “As I expected,” said Frank, quietly.

  “Frank,” murmured his mother, anxiously, “what have you been doing?”

  “Preparing for eavesdroppers--and sneaks. Caught one first set of thetrap, it seems,” responded Frank in clear, loud tones.

  The captured lurker was indeed Dorsett. He was panting and infuriated.One foot was held imprisoned in a wooden spring clamp chained to a login a hole in the ground. This aperture had been covered with lightpieces of sod which Dorsett was pushing aside with his cane, while hecontinued to groan with pain.

  The lamplight enabled him to discern more clearly the trap that hadcaught him. He managed to pull one side of the contrivance loose and gothis foot free.

  Wincing with pain and limping, he came closer to the window, boilingwith rage.

  “So you did it, and boast of it, do you?” he howled at Frank.

  “I did and do,” answered Frank calmly. “This is our home, Mr. Dorsett,not a public highway.”

  Dorsett uttered a terrific snort of rage. He brandished his cane, struckout with it, and its end went through the panes of both the upper andthe raised lower sash.

  Frank receded a step, unhurt, with the words:

  “Very well. You will pay for that damage, I suppose you know. You willget no further rent until you repair it.”

  “Rent!” roared the frenzied Dorsett. “You’ll never pay me rent again.I’ll show you. Tenants at will, ha! Can’t stroll around my own property,hey? Why, I’ll--I’ll crush you.”

  “Mr. Dorsett,” spoke up the widow in a dignified tone, “it is true thisis your property, but you have no right to spy upon us. You took awayour dog--”

  “Who says so--who says so?” shouted the infuriated man.

  “Christmas himself will say so in an unmistakable manner if I let himloose at you,” answered Frank. “The poundmaster at Riverton might be acredible witness, also.”

  “You’ll pay for this, oh, but you’ll pay for this!” snarled the wretchedold man as he limped away to the street.

  Mrs. Ismond sank to a chair, quite pale and agitated over the disturbingincident of the moment.

  “Frank,” she said in a fluttering tone, “that man alarms me. It makes meuneasy to think he is lurking about us all the time. I am unhappy tothink we are subject to his caprices, where once he owned the property.”

  “We own it yet, by rights,” declared Frank. “Some day I may prove itto Dorsett. But do not worry, mother. You must have guessed from myinterest in what Mr. Gregson said to-night, that I believe there issomething for me in this mail order idea. I have not yet formed myplans, but I am going to get into business for myself.”

  The boy heard their guest stirring about up stairs, probably aroused bythe window smashing. He reassured Gregson and went to bed himself.

  Frank lay awake until nearly midnight thinking over all that Gregson hadtold him. He went mentally through every phase of the mail order ideathat he knew anything about.

  When Frank finally fell asleep it was to dream of starting in businessfor himself. At broad daylight he was in a big factory which his ownendeavors had built up. Around him were his busy employes nailing upgreat boxes of merchandise ordered from all parts of the country.

  The sound of the hammers seemed still echoing in his ears as he wasaroused by the voice of his mother from her own room.

  “Frank! Frank!” she called.

  “Yes, mother,” he answered, springing out of bed.

  “Some one is knocking at the front door.”

  “Knocking?” repeated Frank, hurrying into his clothes. “That’s noknocking, it sounds more like hammering.”

  Christmas was barking furiously. The hammering had ceased by the timeFrank had got down the stairs and to the front door. He unlocked itquickly.

  At the end of the graveled walk, just turning into the street was oldDorsett. He waved a hammer in his hand malignantly as he noticed Frank.

  “We’ll see if I am to have free range of my own premises,” he shouted.“Young man, you get your traps out of here within the time limit of thelaw, or I’ll throw you into the street, bag and baggage.”

  Frank saw that Dorsett had just nailed a square white sheet of paperacross the door panel. He stood reading it over as his mother came outonto the porch.

  “Was that Mr. Dorsett, Frank?” she inquired.

  “Yes, some more of his friendly work.”

  “What is it, Frank?”

  “A five-days’ notice to quit,” answered Frank.

  Mrs. Ismond scanned the legal document with a pale and troubled face.Frank affected unconcern and indifference.

  “Don’t let that worry you, mother,” he said, leading her back into thehouse.

  “But, Frank, he can put us out!”

  “If we stay to let him, probably. The law he has invoked to rob us, mayalso enable him to evict us, mother, but he won’t win in the end. Yousay you dislike the place. Very well, we will move.”

  “But where to, Frank?”

  “This isn’t the only house in Greenville, is it, mother?” asked Frank,smiling reassuringly. “What’s more, Greenville isn’t the only town increation. Stop your fretting, now. I’ve got a grand plan, and I am sureto carry it out. Just leave everything to me. My head is just burstingwith all the ideas that interesting balloonist has put into it. Why,mother, if I can only get a start, if I can get hold of a few noveltiesand do a little advertising--”

  “Oh, Frank, it takes money to do all that!”

  “And brains. Mostly brains and industry, Mr. Gregson says. Mother, nowor soon, here, at Greenville or somewhere else, I am determined to givethe mail order idea a trial.”

  “Mail order, Frank?”

  “Capital! excellent!” cried Frank with enthusiasm. “Why, mother, youhave suggested the very catchy name. I will use to advertise by--‘MailOrder Frank’!”