Hector's Inheritance, Or, the Boys of Smith Institute

But Hector concerned himself but little with any slight received from Guy Roscoe. His words, however, recalled his thoughts to the boy he had so recently met, Larry Deane, and he resolved to see if he could not help him by an appeal to Allan Roscoe.

“Mr. Roscoe,” said he, quickly, “I nearly forgot something I want very much to say to you.”

“What is it?” asked his guardian, suspiciously. It occurred to him that Hector wished to borrow some money, and he was considering how little he could decently give him.

“I hear you have discharged Reuben Deane from his position?”

“How did you hear it?”

“From his son, Larry.”

“Where did you see Larry?” asked Allan, in some curiosity.

“He has been driven to take up that employment which Guy so kindly recommended to me.”

“Larry Deane a bootblack! That’s a good one!” exclaimed Guy, with evident relish.

“I don’t think so,” said Hector. “The poor boy is picking a poor living, and sending home what he can to his father, who cannot get new employment. Mr. Roscoe, why did you discharge him?”

“I can answer that question, though it’s none of your business all the same,” volunteered Guy. “The boy Larry was impudent to me, and his father took his part.”

“Mr. Roscoe,” said Hector, “Reuben Deane was in my father’s employ before I was born. Larry and I used to play together when we were little boys, and since when we were older.”

“A bootblack is a nice playmate,” said Guy, with his usual sneer.

“He was not a bootblack then,” retorted Hector, “nor would he be now but for your mean spite. Mr. Roscoe, as I happen to know, my father always valued the services of Reuben Deane, and I ask, in his name, that you give him back his place.”

“My brother may have been deceived in him,” said Allan Roscoe, coldly, emphasizing the first two words, in order to remind Hector that he was no longer to consider him as his father; “but I cannot promise to adopt all his views and protege’s. I have displaced Deane and substituted for him a gardener with whom I am better pleased.”

“Have you no sympathy for the poverty and distress of a man who has served our family faithfully for so many years?” asked Hector, half indignantly.

“My father is competent to manage his own affairs,” said Guy, offensively.

“You don’t appear to think so, or you would not answer for him,” retorted Hector.

“Boys, I must request you to desist from this bickering,” said Allan Roscoe. “I am sorry, Hector, that I cannot comply with your request. By the way, you did not tell me where you were staying.”

“With a gentleman on Forty-second Street.”

“What is his name?”

“Andrew Ross.”

“Not the eminent merchant of that name?” asked Allan Roscoe, in surprise.

“Yes, I believe so.”

“He is worth a million.”

“I supposed he was rich. He lives in an elegant house.”

“Where did you get acquainted with him, Hector?”

“At Saratoga, a year and a half ago.”

“Did you beg him to take you in?” asked Guy, unpleasantly.

Hector quietly ignored the question.

“Walter Boss and I have been very intimate, and I was invited to pay him a visit.”

“Does he know that you are a poor boy?” asked Guy.

“I have communicated to Mr. Ross what your father told me,” answered Hector, coldly. “He is a real friend, and it made no difference in his treatment of me. I hope to get a situation through his influence.”

“You are lucky to have such a man for a friend,” said Allan Roscoe, who would himself have liked to become acquainted with a man whose social position was so high. “I hope you will not misrepresent me to him. Should any opportunity occur, I will try to procure you employment.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Hector, but his tone lacked heartiness. He saw that his being a visitor to Mr. Ross and his son had made a difference in his favor. Guy, too, began to think he might be a little more gracious. He, like his father, liked to associate with boys of high social position, and he would have liked to be introduced to Walter Ross.

“What is your number?” he asked of Hector, “I don’t know but I’ll call and see you some time. Is Walter Ross generally at home?”

“Don’t put yourself to any inconvenience to call,” said Hector, significantly. “Walter and I are generally away in the afternoon.”

“Oh, I don’t care to call upon you,” said Guy, annoyed. “I can have all the company I want.”

“I won’t detain you any longer, Mr. Roscoe,” said Hector, realizing that the conversation had occupied considerable time. “Good-morning.”

“That boy is as proud as ever,” said Guy, after Hector had left them. “He doesn’t seem to realize that he has lost his money.”

“He has not had time to realize it yet. It won’t be long before he will understand the difference it makes.”

“I am glad he isn’t my cousin,” continued Guy. “I dislike him more than any boy I know.”

Allan Roscoe looked thoughtful.

“I fear that boy will give me trouble yet,” he said to himself. “He evidently suspects that something is wrong.”

CHAPTER XXIX. JIM SMITH EFFECTS A LOAN

After parting with Allan Roscoe and Guy, Hector kept on his way downtown. He did not expect to meet any more acquaintances, but he was again to be surprised. Standing on the sidewalk having his boots blacked, he recognized the schoolfellow he had least reason to like—Jim Smith.

“What brings Jim here?” he asked himself, in some surprise.

He did not feel inclined to go up and claim acquaintance, but it chanced that he became witness of a piece of meanness characteristic of Jim.

When the young bootblack had finished polishing his shoes, he waited for his customary fee.

Jim fumbled in his pockets, and finally produced two cents.