Mark Mason's Victory: The Trials and Triumphs of a Telegraph Boy

"If I cry, it will be for joy," said Philip. "I never want to see Mr. Sprague or any of his family again."

CHAPTER XXXIV

ON THE WAY HOME

At San Francisco Mark stopped over a day to buy some clothing for Philip.

"Did Mr. Sprague select your clothes, Philip?" asked Mark. "If so, I can't compliment him on his taste."

"They are some old clothes of Oscar's," answered Philip. "They are the best I could get."

"We'll see if San Francisco can't furnish you with something better."

At a clothing store on Market Street, Mark bought a complete outfit for Philip. The latter was much pleased when he saw his transformation in a pier glass in the store.

"Now I shall have nothing to remind me of Mr. Sprague," he said. "Do you want me to take the old clothes with me?"

"No; we will leave them here."

They stopped at the Russ House. Just after supper Mark met an old acquaintance, the bronzed miner whom he had seen in Omaha. The latter walked up eagerly and grasped Mark's hand.

"It does me good to see you again, young pard," he said. "And is this the kid?"

"Yes."

"Well, upon my word he looks like a little gentleman."

"He has improved in appearance since I made his acquaintance in Gulchville," said Mark with a smile. "I have just bought him a new outfit."

"So, so! Well, fine feathers make fine birds. Well, my boy, does Mark make you call him father?"

Philip laughed heartily at the idea.

"Why, he's only a boy!" he rejoined.

"Philip," said Mark with a warning finger, "you must treat me with proper respect."

"Shall I call you father?"

"No; perhaps it will be more suitable to call me brother Mark. Did you stop over in Nevada, Mr. Dempsey?"

"Yes; I went to the mine."

"What did you learn?"

"That a New York syndicate is trying to purchase the mine, and this has carried up the price of stock to two hundred and fifty dollars."

Mark's eyes sparkled.

"Why that would make mother's share worth fifty thousand dollars," he said.

"I advise you to take measures to secure your mother's rights as soon as you reach home. There is danger in delay."

"I certainly will follow your advice, Mr. Dempsey. Shall you hold on to your shares?"

"No. I think I will sell out. I have an offer from a man in Virginia City which I think I shall accept. The stock may go higher, but again it may go lower. My shares will bring twenty-five thousand dollars, and that will make a man like me rich."

"I wish I had control of mother's stock now," said Mark. "I could realize a price which would make her comfortable for life."

The sudden rise in the value of the Golden Hope shares was already known in New York. Mr. Talbot on receiving the intelligence called on his brokers, Crane & Lawton.

"Would you advise me to sell now, Mr. Crane?" he asked.

"Wait a week, Mr. Talbot, and you may realize a few more points. Then you had better unload."

"I will be guided by your advice. I am sure it is for the best."

There was still, however, a feeling of uneasiness in the mind of Mr. Talbot, who knew very well that Mrs. Mason was the rightful owner of half the stock which he controlled. He decided to call on his sister in-law once more, and urge her to sign a paper releasing him from further liability as executor of her father's estate.

"I wonder whether Mark has got back," he said to himself. "If not, probably Ellen is very short of money. I will offer, if necessary, five hundred dollars for her signature. I don't think she can resist that."

Mrs. Mason had just finished washing her breakfast dishes when there was a knock at the door. Opening it, she saw the familiar face of Tom Trotter, dressed in the uniform of a Western Uniform telegraph boy.

"What, Tom!" she exclaimed in surprise. "Have you changed your business?"

"Yes, Mrs. Mason," answered Tom complacently. "I've give up blackin' boots, and now I'm a messenger boy like Mark."

"You look very nice in your uniform, Tom. There's another improvement I see."

"What is that, Mrs. Mason?"

"Your hands and face are both clean."

"I've got to keep clean now," said Tom soberly. "It seems kind of strange, but I guess I'll get used do it. When I look in the glass I don't hardly know myself."

"Don't you like it better?"

"Well, I guess I shall when I get used to it. But I forgot, I've got a message for you," and Tom drew out an official envelope.

"It must be from Mark," said Mrs. Mason in excitement, and she tore open the dispatch and read as follows:

Omaha, Sept. 17.

Shall be home on Friday. Mark.

"Mark will be home on Friday, Tom!" said the happy mother. "How glad I shall be!"

"Hurray!" exclaimed Tom. "That's good news."