The Telegraph Boy. Alger Horatio Jr.

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ am not a drinking man—that is, I indulge myself but rarely. But here we are."

      So saying he plunged down some steps into a basement, Frank following him. Our hero found himself in a dirty apartment, provided with a bar, over which was a placard, inscribed:—

      "FREE LUNCH."

      "How much money have you got, Frank?" inquired Montagu Percy.

      "Twenty-five cents."

      "Lunch at this establishment is free," said Montagu; "but you are expected to order some drink. What will you have?"

      "I don't care for any drink except a glass of water."

      "All right; I will order for you, as the rules of the establishment require it; but I will drink your glass myself. Eat whatever you like."

      Frank took a sandwich from a plate on the counter and ate it with relish, for he was hungry. Meanwhile his companion emptied the two glasses, and ordered another.

      "Can you pay for these drinks?" asked the bar-tender, suspiciously.

      "Sir, I never order what I cannot pay for."

      "I don't know about that. You've been in here and taken lunch more than once without drinking anything."

      "It may be so. I will make up for it now. Another glass, please."

      "First pay for what you have already drunk."

      "Frank, hand me your money," said Montagu.

      Frank incautiously handed him his small stock of money, which he saw instantly transferred to the bar-tender.

      "That is right, I believe," said Montagu Percy.

      The bar-keeper nodded, and Percy, transferring his attention to the free lunch, stowed away a large amount.

      Frank observed with some uneasiness the transfer of his entire cash capital to the bar-tender; but concluded that Mr. Percy would refund a part after they went out. As they reached the street he broached the subject.

      "I didn't agree to pay for both dinners," he said, uneasily.

      "Of course not. It will be my treat next time. That will be fair, won't it?"

      "But I would rather you would give me back a part of my money. I may not see you again."

      "I will be in the Park to-morrow at one o'clock."

      "Give me back ten cents, then," said Frank, uneasily. "That was all the money I had."

      "I am really sorry, but I haven't a penny about me. I'll make it right to-morrow. Good-day, my young friend. Be virtuous and you will be happy."

      Frank looked after the shabby figure ruefully. He felt that he had been taken in and done for. His small capital had vanished, and he was adrift in the streets of a strange city without a penny.

      CHAPTER II.

      DICK RAFFERTY

      "I've been a fool," said Frank to himself, in genuine mortification, as he realized how easily he had permitted himself to be duped. "I ought to have stayed in the country."

      Even a small sum of money imparts to its possessor a feeling of independence, but one who is quite penniless feels helpless and apprehensive. Frank was unable even to purchase an apple from the snuffy old apple-woman who presided over the stand near by.

      "What am I going to do?" he asked himself, soberly.

      "What has become of your uncle?" asked a boot-black.

      Looking up, Frank recognized one of those who had saluted Percy and himself on their way to the restaurant.

      "He isn't my uncle," he replied, rather resentfully.

      "You never saw him before, did you?" continued the boy.

      "No, I didn't."

      "That's what I thought."

      There was something significant in the young Arab's tone, which led Frank to inquire, "Do you know him?"

      "Yes, he's a dead-beat."

      "A what?"

      "A dead-beat. Don't you understand English?"

      "He told me that he did business on Wall street."

      The boot-black shrieked with laughter.

      "He do business on Wall street!" he repeated. "You're jolly green, you are!"

      Frank was inclined to be angry, but he had the good sense to see that his new friend was right. So he said good-humoredly, "I suppose I am. You see I am not used to the city."

      "It's just such fellows as you he gets hold of," continued the boot-black. "Didn't he make you treat?"

      "I may as well confess it," thought Frank. "This boy may help me with advice."

      "Yes," he said aloud. "I hadn't but twenty-five cents, and he made me spend it all. I haven't a cent left."

      "Whew!" ejaculated the other boy. "You're beginnin' business on a small capital."

      "That's so," said Frank. "Do you know any way I can earn money?"

      Dick Rafferty was a good-natured boy, although rough, and now that Frank had appealed to him for advice he felt willing to help him, if he could.

      "What can you do?" he asked, in a business-like tone. "Have you ever worked?"

      "Yes," answered Frank.

      "What can you do?"

      "I can milk cows, hoe corn and potatoes, ride horse to plough, and—"

      "Hold up!" said Dick. "All them things aint goin' to do you no good in New York. People don't keep cows as a reg'lar thing here."

      "Of course I know that."

      "And there aint much room for plantin' corn and potatoes. Maybe you could get a job over in Jersey."

      "I'd rather stay in New York. I can do something here."

      "Can you black boots, or sell papers?"

      "I can learn."

      "You need money to set up in either of them lines," said Dick Rafferty.

      "Would twenty-five cents have been enough?" asked Frank.

      "You could have bought some evening papers with that."

      "I wish somebody would lend me some money," said Frank; "I'd pay it back as soon as I'd sold my papers. I was a fool to let that fellow swindle me."

      "That's so," assented Dick; "but it's no good thinkin' of that now. I'd lend you the money myself, if I had it; but I've run out my account at the Park Bank, and can't spare the money just at present."

      "How long have you been in business?" asked Frank.

      "Ever since СКАЧАТЬ