Making His Mark. Alger Horatio Jr.

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СКАЧАТЬ style="font-size:15px;">      It hardly seemed likely. It would be better for her, perhaps, if it were destroyed. Besides, he had seen her through the open window, and her face had impressed him as that of a very mean woman.

      "She would be more likely to charge me with stealing and threaten me with arrest," he thought. "What shall I do? Shall I keep it? That would not pay me, as I may never come this way again. If I could get some one to take it and allow me even a dollar for it, it would be better to get it off my hands at once."

      This thought was strengthened by the knowledge that his whole available stock of money amounted to but seven cents. Lifting his eyes casually, his glance rested on a sign over a small office building on the opposite side of the street.

      This was the sign:

Enoch Perkins,Attorney-at-Law

      As a rule, the tramp avoided any person who had any connection with the law, but he was about to pose as a virtuous man returning lost property. Again, a lawyer would know the worth of the paper. At any rate he decided to call upon him and open negotiations.

      Mr. Perkins was sitting at his desk making out a conveyance, when he heard a furtive step at the door of his office.

      Lifting his eyes, he noticed James Skerrett opening the door, with an apologetic look upon his face. Now, a client was always welcome, for Mr. Perkins was a young man, and his business was as yet limited. But the visitor did not look like a client.

      "What do you want, my man?" he asked, rather gruffly.

      "Are you a lawyer?"

      "Yes; do you want me to make your will?" asked Perkins, smiling.

      "Well, no; not at present. I expect to live a little longer."

      "Just so. Still, life is uncertain, and if you should die suddenly your property might go into the wrong hands."

      "That's so, squire; but I guess there's no hurry about my will. I wanted to ask your advice."

      "Exactly. I am ready to give it for a consideration."

      "Oh, you're a sharp one!" said the tramp. "But I'll come to the point. I was walkin' along the street five minutes since, when I saw a folded paper on the sidewalk. I picked it up and I'll show it to you, for I think the party that lost it might be willin' to pay me somethin' for it."

      Enoch Perkins took the paper from his strange client. As he unfolded and read it, he looked surprised.

      "Where did you pick this up?" he asked, abruptly.

      "A little way down the road."

      "Near a house with two elm trees in front?"

      "Yes," replied Skerrett, eagerly.

      "I think I know the party that lost it. I will take charge of it and return it to her."

      "All right, squire; but there may be a reward."

      "Exactly. Well, you ought to have some thing for picking it up. Here's a dollar."

      "Thank you, sir," said Skerrett, taking the bill with avidity.

      "I suppose you are only passing through the town?"

      "Yes, sir."

      "Don't mention finding the paper; it might annoy the lady who lost it."

      "Yes, sir; I'll remember, sir."

      He left the office, and the lawyer said to himself:

      "I will keep this letter. It may be worth a good deal to me some time."

      CHAPTER V

      ABEL ARRIVES IN PORTVILLE

      The train which reached Portville at four o'clock was full, and half a dozen persons were standing up. One seat, however, was not taken. At a window sat a boy of sixteen—a sallow-complexioned boy, with a face that was neither good-looking nor amiable. On the seat beside him was a valise.

      "Is this seat taken?" asked a pale, tired-looking woman, who had made her way up from the other end of the car.

      "Yes," answered Abel, gruffly, for this was the son of Mrs. Lane, now on his way to his mother's home.

      The woman sighed, for she was in poor health and very tired.

      A man sitting just behind said, indignantly:

      "No, madam, it is not taken. Remove your valise, boy, and let the lady sit down."

      "I am expecting a friend to get in at the next station," said Abel, crossly.

      "That makes no difference. This lady is here, and is better entitled to a seat than a passenger in the next town."

      "I don't see what business it is of yours," said Abel, irritably.

      He made no offer to remove the valise.

      "Then I will show you."

      The gentleman took Abel's bag and set it down in the aisle.

      "Now sit down, madam," he said.

      "Thank you, sir, but I don't want to incommode the young gentleman."

      "He has no right to feel incommoded. Take the seat. It is your right."

      She sank into the seat with a sigh of relief.

      Abel felt and looked very indignant. He was a boy who had always been accustomed to consult his own comfort and convenience, and he was vexed that he had been compelled to yield in the present instance.

      The woman coughed. She evidently had a severe cold. Abel had opened the window, and a strong east wind entered. It would have been uncomfortable even to a person perfectly well, but to one having a cough it was very trying.

      "Would you mind putting down the window?" she asked, timidly. "I have a terrible cold."

      "I prefer it open," said Abel, rudely.

      The passenger behind was cognizant of all that passed.

      "Madam," he said, "will you exchange seats with me?"

      She rose and took the rear seat while the gentleman seated himself beside Abel. He was a stout man, and filled more than half the seat. Abel looked disgusted.

      "Now, young man, close that window!" said the stout man, in a tone of command.

      Abel obeyed, but it was with great unwillingness. He did not dare to do otherwise.

      "It is very close," he grumbled. "I like a little air."

      "There is no other open window on this side the car. If the others can stand it, you can."

      "I wish people would mind their own business," grumbled Abel, peevishly.

      "Look here, young man, if you give me any more of your impudence I will give you a thrashing!" said the stout man, sternly.

      He looked quite capable of carrying out his threat, and Abel, thoroughly cowed, relapsed into silence.

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