The Cash Boy

“Starve, you mean. What’s twelve dollars to a young fellow like me when he’s got his board to pay, and has to dress like a gentleman?”

“You are not in debt, I hope, Thomas?” said Mrs. Bradley, uneasily.

“I owe for the suit I have on, and I don’t know where I’m going to get the money to pay for it.”

He was dressed in a flashy style, not unlike what is popularly denominated a swell. His coarse features were disfigured with unhealthy blotches, and his outward appearance was hardly such as to recommend him. But to him alone the cold heart of the housekeeper was warm. He was her sister’s son and her nearest relative. Her savings were destined for him, and in her attachment she was not conscious of his disagreeable characteristics. She had occasionally given him a five-dollar bill to eke out what he termed his miserable pay, and now whenever he called he didn’t spare hints that he was out of pocket, and that a further gift would be acceptable. Indeed, the only tie that bound him to his aunt was a mercenary one.

But the housekeeper, sharp-sighted as she ordinarily was, did not detect the secret motive of such attention she received from her nephew. She flattered herself that he really loved her, not suspecting that he was too selfish to love anybody but himself.

“Thomas,” she said, with a sudden thought, “I may be able to help you to an increase of your income. Mr. Wharton needs somebody to read to him evenings. On my recommendation he might take you.”

“Thank you, aunt, but I don’t see it. I don’t want to be worked to death.”

“But, think, Thomas,” said his aunt, earnestly. “He is very rich. He might take a fancy to you and remember you in his will.”

“I wish somebody would remember me in his will. Do you really think there’s any chance of the old boy’s doing something handsome for me?”

“That depends on yourself. You must try to please him.”

“Well, I must do something. What’ll he give?”

“I don’t know yet. In fact, there’s another reading to him just now.”

“Then there’s no chance for me.”

“Listen to me. It’s a boy he’s picked up in the streets, quite unsuited for the place. He’s a cash-boy at Gilbert & Mack’s. Why, that’s where you are,” she added, with sudden recollection.

“A cash-boy from my own place? What’s his name?”

“Fowler, I believe.”

“I know him—he’s lately come. How did he get in with the old man?”

“Mr. Wharton fell in the street, and he happened to be near, and helped him home.”

“You’ll have to manage it, aunt.”

“I’ll see what I can do to-morrow. He ought to prefer my nephew to a strange boy, seeing I have been twenty years in his service. I’ll let you know as soon as I have accomplished anything.”

“I don’t half like the idea of giving up my evenings. I don’t believe I can stand it.”

“It is only for a little while, to get him interested in you.”

“Maybe I might try it a week, and then tell him my health was failing, and get him to do something else for me.”

“At any rate, the first thing must be to become acquainted.”

Thomas now withdrew, for he did not enjoy spending an evening with his aunt, the richer by five dollars, half of which was spent before the evening closed at a neighboring billiard saloon.

CHAPTER X

THE HOUSEKEEPER SCHEMING

If Mrs. Bradley had been wiser, she would have felt less confident of her nephew’s producing a favorable impression upon Mr. Wharton. She resolved to open the subject at the breakfast table.

“I didn’t know, Mr. Wharton,” she commenced, “that you intended to engage a reader.”

“Nor did I propose to do so until last evening.”

“I think—you’ll excuse me for saying so—that you will find that boy too young to suit you.”

“I don’t think so. He reads very clearly and distinctly.”

“If I had known you thought of engaging a reader, I would have asked you to engage my nephew.”

“Indeed, I was not aware that you had a nephew in the city. Is he a boy?”

“No; he is a young man. He was twenty years old last June.”

“Is he unfavorably situated?”

“He has a place as salesman.”

“With what firm?”

“Gilbert & Mack.”

“Why, that is the same firm that employs my young friend. It is a good firm.”

“Perhaps it is, but my poor nephew receives a very small salary. He finds it very hard to get along.”

“Your nephew is young. He will be promoted if he serves his employers well.”

“Thomas would have been glad to read to you in the evening, sir,” said Mrs. Bradley, commencing the attack.

“But for my present engagement, I might have taken him,” said Mr. Wharton, politely.

“Have you engaged that boy for any length of time?”

“No; but it is understood that he will stay while I need him, and he continues to suit me. I have a favorable opinion of him. Besides, he needs the pay. He receives but three dollars a week as a cash-boy, and has a sister to support as well as himself.”

“I am sorry,” she said in an injured tone. “I hope you’ll excuse my mentioning it, but I took the liberty, having been for twenty years in your employ.”

“To be sure! You were quite right,” said her employer, kindly. “Perhaps I may be able to do something for your nephew, though not that. Tell him to come and see me some time.”

“Thank you, sir,” said the housekeeper.

There was one question she wanted to determine, and that was the amount of compensation received by Frank. She did not like to inquire directly from Mr. Wharton, but resolved to gain the information from our hero. Some evenings later she had the opportunity. Mr. Wharton had an engagement, and asked her to tell Frank, when he arrived that he was released from duty. Instead of this she received him in the library herself.