Driven from Home; Or, Carl Crawford's Experience

“No; I have never been employed.”

“It doesn’t matter. I will recommend you myself.”

“You might be deceived in me,” said Carl, smiling.

“I’ll take the risk of that. I know a reliable boy when I see him.”

“Thank you. What is the name of your firm?”

“F. Brandes & Co., commission merchants, Pearl Street. My own name is Chauncy Hubbard, at your service.”

“I am Carl Crawford.”

“That’s a good name. I predict that we shall be great chums, if I manage to get you a place in our establishment.”

“Is Mr. Brandes a good man to work for?”

“Yes, he is easy and good-natured. He is liberal to his clerks. What salary do you think I get?”

“I couldn’t guess.”

“Forty dollars a week, and I am only twenty-five. Went into the house at sixteen, and worked my way up.”

“You have certainly done well,” said Carl, respectfully.

“Well, I’m no slouch, if I do say it myself.”

“I don’t wonder your income pays the expenses of your vacation trip.”

“It ought to, that’s a fact, though I’m rather free handed and like to spend money. My prospects are pretty good in another direction. Old Fred Brandes has a handsome daughter, who thinks considerable of your humble servant.”

“Do you think there is any chance of marrying her?” asked Carl, with interest.

“I think my chance is pretty good, as the girl won’t look at anybody else.”

“Is Mr. Brandes wealthy?”

“Yes, the old man’s pretty well fixed, worth nearly half a million, I guess.”

“Perhaps he will take you into the firm,” suggested Carl.

“Very likely. That’s what I’m working for.”

“At any rate, you ought to save something out of your salary.”

“I ought, but I haven’t. The fact is, Carl,” said Chauncy Hubbard, in a burst of confidence, “I have a great mind to make a confession to you.”

“I shall feel flattered, I am sure,” said Carl, politely.

“I have one great fault—I gamble.”

“Do you?” said Carl, rather startled, for he had been brought up very properly to have a horror of gambling.

“Yes, I suppose it’s in my blood. My father was a very rich man at one time, but he lost nearly all his fortune at the gaming table.”

“That ought to have been a warning to you, I should think.”

“It ought, and may be yet, for I am still a young man.”

“Mr. Hubbard,” said Carl, earnestly, “I feel rather diffident about advising you, for I am only a boy, but I should think you would give up such a dangerous habit.”

“Say no more, Carl! You are a true friend. I will try to follow your advice. Give me your hand.”

Carl did so, and felt a warm glow of pleasure at the thought that perhaps he had redeemed his companion from a fascinating vice.

“I really wish I had a sensible boy like you to be my constant companion. I should feel safer.”

“Do you really have such a passion for gambling, then?”

“Yes; if at the hotel to-night I should see a party playing poker, I could not resist joining them. Odd, isn’t it?”

“I am glad I have no such temptation.”

“Yes, you are lucky. By the way, how much money have you about you?”

“Five dollars.”

“Then you can do me a favor. I have a ten-dollar bill, which I need to get me home. Now, I would like to have you keep a part of it for me till I go away in the morning. Give me your five, and I will hand you ten. Out of that you can pay my hotel bill and hand me the balance due me in the morning.”

“If you really wish me to do so.”

“Enough said. Here is the ten.”

Carl took the bill, and gave Mr. Hubbard his five-dollar note.

“You are placing considerable confidence in me,” he said.

“I am, it is true, but I have no fear of being deceived. You are a boy who naturally inspires confidence.”

Carl thought Mr. Chauncy Hubbard a very agreeable and sensible fellow, and he felt flattered to think that the young man had chosen him as a guardian, so to speak.

“By the way, Carl, you haven’t told me,” said Hubbard, as they pursued their journey, “how a boy like yourself is forced to work his own way.”

“I can tell you the reason very briefly—I have a stepmother.”

“I understand. Is your father living?”

“Yes.”