“I don’t know.”
“Will you ask him?”
“I will tell him that you made the request, Eben,” answered Herbert, cautiously. “Have you applied to your father?”
“To the old man? Yes. He hasn’t any more heart than a grindstone,” said Eben, bitterly. “What do you think he wrote me?”
“He refused, I suppose.”
“Here is his letter,” said Eben, drawing from his pocket a greasy half sheet of note paper. “See what he has to say to his only son.”
This was the letter:
“EBEN GRAHAM: I have received your letter, and am not surprised to hear that you are in trouble. ‘As a man sows, so also shall he reap.’ A young man who will rob his father of his hard earnings is capable of anything. You have done what you could to ruin me, and deserve what you have got. You want me to send you money to come home, and continue your wicked work—I shall not do it. I wash my hands of you; I have already given notice, through the country paper that I have given you your time, and shall pay no more debts of your contracting.
“I am glad to hear that you are engaged in an honest employment. It is better than I expected. I would not have been surprised if I had heard that you were in jail. My advice to you is to stay where you are and make yourself useful to your employer. He may in time raise your wages. Five years hence, if you have turned over a new leaf and led an honest life, I may give you a place in my store. At present, I would rather leave you where you are.
“EBENEZER GRAHAM.”
“What do you say to that? Isn’t that rather rough on an only son, eh?” said Eben.
It occurred to Herbert that Eben hardly deserved very liberal treatment from his father, notwithstanding he was an only son.
“Oh, the old man is awfully mean and close-fisted,” said Eben. “He cares more for money than for anything else. By the way, how does Melville treat you?”
“Mr. Melville,” said Herbert, emphasizing the Mr., “is always kind and considerate.”
“Pays you well, eh?”
“He pays me more than I could get anywhere else.”
“Pays all your hotel and traveling expenses, eh?”
“Of course.”
“And a good salary besides?”
“Yes.”
“Herbert,” said Eben, suddenly, “I want you to do me a favor.”
“What is it?”
“You’ve always known me, you know. When you was a little chap, and came into the store, I used to give you sticks of candy.”
“I don’t remember it,” answered Herbert, truthfully.
“I did, all the same. You were so young that you don’t remember it.”
“Well, Eben, what of it?”
“I want you to lend me ten dollars, Herbert, in memory of old times.”
Herbert was generously inclined, on ordinary occasions, but did not feel so on this occasion. He felt that Eben was not a deserving object, even had he felt able to make so large a loan. Besides, he could not forget that the young man who now asked a favor had brought a false charge of stealing against him.
“You will have to excuse me, Eben,” he answered. “To begin with, I cannot afford to lend so large a sum.”
“I would pay you back as soon as I could.”
“Perhaps you would,” said Herbert, “though I have not much confidence in it. But you seem to forget that you charged me with stealing only a short time since. I wonder how you have the face to ask me to lend you ten dollars, or any sum.”
“It was a mistake,” muttered Eben, showing some signs of confusion.
“At any rate, I won’t say anything more about it while you are in trouble. But you must excuse my declining to lend you.”
“Lend me five dollars, then,” pleaded Eben.
“What do you want to do with it?”
“To buy lottery tickets. I am almost sure I should win a prize, and then I can pay you five dollars for one.”
“I wouldn’t lend any money for that purpose to my dearest friend,” said Herbert “Buying lottery tickets is about the most foolish investment you could make.”
“Then I won’t buy any,” said Eben. “Lend me the money and I will use it to buy clothes.”
“You will have to excuse me,” said Herbert, coldly.
“I didn’t think you’d be so mean,” whined Eben, “to a friend in distress.”
“I don’t look upon you as a friend, and for very good reasons,” retorted Herbert, as he walked away.
Eben looked after him with a scowl of hatred.
“I’d like to humble that boy’s pride,” he muttered, as he slowly resumed his march.
CHAPTER XXI. COL. WARNER
When Herbert returned to the hotel he found George Melville in the reading room in conversation with a tall and dignified-looking stranger.
“Is that your brother, Mr. Melville?” asked the latter, as Herbert came forward and spoke to Melville.
“No, Colonel, he is my young friend and confidential clerk, Herbert Carr.”
“Glad to make your acquaintance, Mr. Carr,” said the colonel, affably, extending his hand as he spoke.
“This is Col. Warner, Herbert,” explained George Melville.
Herbert, who was naturally polite, shook hands with the colonel, and said he was glad to make his acquaintance.