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

"Anybody might be short of money. One day when I was traveling in the Adirondacks, I met a rich man – a millionaire – who was in trouble. 'I say, Schuyler,' he said to me, 'can you loan me a hundred dollars. I give you my word I am almost penniless, and no one knows me here.' Now I happened to have three hundred dollars in my pocketbook, and I at once produced it and lent him the money. You see even a millionaire can get into a money scrape."

"Who was the millionaire?" asked Edgar, who was not quite so credulous a believer of Schuyler's pictures as formerly.

"I don't feel at liberty to tell. It would not be honorable. But to come back to our own business! You must make some arrangement to pay me."

"Tell me how," said Edgar sulkily.

"Don't you deposit for your firm in the Park Bank?"

"Yes."

"Always checks?"

"Sometimes there are bank bills."

Schuyler bent over and whispered in Edgar's ear. Edgar flushed and then looked nervous and agitated.

"You ask me to do that," he said.

"Yes, there is no danger. Say you lost the bills in the street."

Edgar was not a conscientious boy or a boy of high principle, but this suggestion shocked him.

"Would you ruin me?" he asked.

"I would have you pay me what you owe me. If you don't there will be a fuss."

"I wish I had never met you, Mr. Schuyler," said poor Edgar bitterly.

"I have been disappointed in you," said Schuyler coldly. "I thought you were the son of a gentleman and a gentleman yourself."

"Who says I am not?"

"I don't. I expect you to behave like one. Good night."

This interview took place on Fifth Avenue not far from Delmonico's café. When the two parted another boy, who had been following at a little distance, moved rapidly forward and placed his hand on Edgar's shoulder.

"Cousin Edgar," he said.

Edgar turned.

"Mark!" he said, not with his old hauteur, for trouble had humbled his pride.

"Yes. Who was that you were walking with?" asked Mark.

"No one you know. He is Mr. Schuyler, from one of the best New York families."

Mark smiled.

"I hope you have no business with him," he said.

"I owe him seventy-five dollars, and I don't know how on earth I am going to pay him."

"What do you owe him that for?"

"For bets on games of billiards."

"This Hamilton Schuyler, as he calls himself, is an adventurer, a swindler, and a thief. His family is not as good as yours or mine."

"Is this true?" asked Edgar stupefied.

"Yes. Don't trouble yourself about what you owe him. Appoint a meeting for him to-morrow evening at the Fifth Avenue Hotel. I will go there and meet him with you. I'll get you out of your scrape."

"Do that, Mark, and I'll be your friend for life. I'll never treat you meanly again."

CHAPTER XXXVI

AT THE FIFTH AVENUE HOTEL

On arriving in New York Mark took his young charge at once to the house of Mr. Gilbert.

It was at the close of the day, and Mr. Gilbert had returned from his office. He received Mark with great cordiality.

"True and faithful, as I expected!" he said. "How did you enjoy your trip?"

"Very much, sir. I hope, some day, to visit California again."

"So you are Philip Lillis, my boy," continued Mr. Gilbert kindly. "Do you think you shall like to live in New York?"

"Yes, sir."

"Were you sorry to leave California?"

"No, sir; Mr. Sprague and Oscar did not treat me well. I would rather live with you."

"Your father was a cousin and dear friend. I will try to make his boy comfortable and happy. Mark, will you stay to supper?"

"I should like to very much, but I have not yet seen my mother."

"That is sufficient excuse. Your first duty is to her. Wait a moment. I must express my acknowledgments to you in a substantial manner."

Mr. Gilbert sat down at his desk and wrote a check, which he inclosed in an envelope.

"Open it when you get home," he said.

"I have a balance of about forty dollars belonging to you, Mr. Gilbert, from my expense money."

"Keep it. I am sure it will be more useful to you than to me."