Mark Mason's Victory

"Is it the man you was walkin' with?"

"Yes; there he is sitting on that bench."

"He ain't much to look at. You look just like him."

"Really, I think you are the most impudent boy I ever met!" said Edgar with asperity.

"Why, what have I said? I only told you you looked like him."

"Yes, but you said he wasn't much to look at!"

"I guess he's rich, and that's better than good looks."

"Yes, my father is quite wealthy," returned Edgar complacently.

"I wish I was rich instead of good lookin'."

"You good looking!"

"That's what everybody says. I ain't no judge myself."

Tom looked roguishly at Edgar, and his aristocratic patron was obliged to confess that he had a pleasant face, though it was marred by a black spot on each cheek, probably caused by the contact of his hands.

"You're a queer boy," said Edgar. "I don't know what to make of you."

"Make a rich man of me, and well go to Europe together. My doctor says I ought to travel for my health."

"Edgar, haven't you got your shoes blacked yet?" asked his father from the bench.

Tom struck the box sharply with his brush to show that the job was completed.

"Just got done, governor," he said familiarly.

"Here is your money," said Edgar, producing some pennies from his pockets.

"There's only four," observed Tom with a critical glance.

"Only four! Haven't you dropped one?"

"No. That's all you gave me."

"Father, have you got a cent?"

Mr. Talbot's hand dived into his pocket, and he brought out a penny, but it was a Canadian coin.

"I don't know as I can pass this," said Tom. "They're very particular at the Windsor Hotel, where I am boarding."

"You can save it till you go traveling in Canada," suggested Edgar, with unusual brightness for him.

"That's so," answered Tom, who appreciated a joke. "I'll stop in Syracuse on the way and pay you a visit."

"How does he know about our living in Syracuse?" asked Mr. Talbot.

"I told him I lived there."

"He said you was a big bug up there."

"I hope you didn't use that expression, Edgar," said his father.

"Oh well, that's what he meant. Won't you have a shine yourself, governor?"

"No; I don't think I shall need it."

"Where'd you get that shine you've got on?"

"In Syracuse."

"Tell 'em they don't understand shinin' boots up there."

"Hadn't you better go up there and give them some lessons?" suggested Edgar.

"Well, I don't mind, if I can get free board at your house."

"Do you think we would have a bootblack living in our house?"

"Don't waste any time on him, Edgar. He is a street boy, and his manners are fitted to his station."

"Thank you, governor. That's the biggest compliment I've had for a long time."

Mr. Talbot laughed.

"Really, boy, you are very grotesque."

"That's another compliment," said Tom, taking off his hat and bowing with mock politeness.

"Hallo, Tom!"

Tom turned to meet the smile of a District Telegraph messenger, who was crossing the park to Broadway.

"How's yourself, Mark?" he said. "I'd offer to shake hands, but I've been doin' a little business for these gentlemen, and my gloves ain't handy."

No. 79, following the direction of Tom's nod, glanced at Mr. Talbot and Edgar, and instantly a look of surprise came over his face.

"Why, Uncle Solon, is that you?" he exclaimed.

Solon Talbot looked embarrassed, and seemed in doubt whether to acknowledge his relationship to the humble telegraph boy.

"Are you Mark Mason?" he asked.