The Telegraph Boy

by Jr. Horatio Alger

  One day Frank was summoned to a fashionable boarding-house in a sidestreet above the Fifth-avenue hotel. On presenting himself, the servantsaid, "It's one of the boarders wants you. Stay here, and I'll let himknow you've come."

  "All right!" said Frank.

  "Come right up," said the girl, directly after, speaking from the upperlanding.

  Frank ascended the stairs, and entered a room on the second floor. Agentleman, partially bald, with a rim of red hair around the barecentral spot, sat in a chair by the window, reading a morning paper.

  "So you're the telegraph boy, are you?" he said.

  "Yes, sir."

  "You are honest, eh?"

  "I hope so, sir."

  "Because I am going to trust you with a considerable sum of money."

  "It will be safe, sir."

  "I want you to do some shopping for me. Are you ever employed in thatway?"

  "I was once, sir."

  "Let me see,--I want some linen handkerchiefs and some collars. Are youa judge of those articles?"

  "Not particularly."

  "However, I suppose you know a collar from a pair of cuffs, and ahandkerchief from a towel," said the stranger, petulantly.

  "I rather think I can tell them apart," said Frank.

  "Now let me see how many I want," said the stranger, reflectively. "Ithink half-a-dozen handkerchiefs will do."

  "How high shall I go?" asked Frank.

  "You ought to get them for fifty cents apiece, I should think."

  "Yes, sir, I can get them for that."

  "And the collars--well, half-a-dozen will do. Get them of good quality,size 15, and pay whatever is asked."

  "Yes, sir; do you want anything more?"

  "I think not, this morning. I have a headache, or I would go outmyself," explained the stranger. "I live up the Hudson, and I must gohome this afternoon by the boat."

  "Do you want me to buy the articles at any particular store?" inquiredFrank.

  "No; I leave that to your judgment. A large store is likely to have abetter assortment, I suppose."

  "Very well, sir."

  "Come back as soon as you can, that's all."

  "You haven't given me the money yet, sir," said Frank.

  "Oh, I beg pardon! That is an important omission."

  The stranger drew out a pocket-book, which appeared to be well filled,and extracted two bills of twenty dollars each, which he passed toFrank.

  "This is too much, sir," said the telegraph boy. "One of these billswill be much more than sufficient."

  "Never mind. I should like to have them both changed. You can buy thearticles at different places, as this will give you a chance to getchange for both."

  "I can get them changed at a bank, sir."

  "No," said the stranger, hastily, "I would rather you would pay them forgoods. Shopkeepers are bound to change bills for a customer."

  "I don't see what difference it makes to you as long as they arechanged," thought Frank. However it was not his business to question hisemployer's decision.

  Sixth avenue was not far distant, and as Frank was left to his ownchoice he betook himself hither on his shopping tour. Entering a largeretail store, he inquired for gentleman's linen handkerchiefs.

  "Large or small?" asked the girl in attendance.

  "Large, I should think."

  He was shown some of good quality, at fifty cents.

  "I think they will do," said Frank, after examination. "I will takehalf-a-dozen."

  So saying he drew out one of the twenty-dollar bills.

  "Cash!" called the saleswoman, tapping on the counter with her pencil.

  Several small boys were flitting about the store in the service ofcustomers. One of them made his appearance.

  "Have you nothing smaller?" asked the girl, noticing the denomination ofthe bill.

  "No," answered Frank.

  She put the bill between the leaves of a small blank book, and handedboth that and the goods to the boy.

  Frank sat down on a stool by the counter to wait.

  Presently the cash-boy came back, and the proprietor of the store withhim. He was a portly man, with a loud voice and an air of authority. Tohim the cash-boy pointed out Frank.

  "Are you the purchaser of these handkerchiefs?" he asked.

  "Yes, sir," answered Frank, rather surprised at the question.

  "And did you offer this twenty-dollar bill in payment?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Where did you get it? Think well," said the trader, sternly.

  "What is the matter? Isn't the bill a good one?" asked Frank.

  "You have not answered my question. However, I will answer yours. Thebill is a counterfeit."

  Frank looked surprised, and he understood at a flash why he had beentrusted with two of these bills when one would answer.

  "I have nothing to do with that," said the telegraph boy. "I was sentout to buy some articles, and this money was given me to pay for them."

  "Have you got any other money of this description?" asked the trader,suspiciously.

  "Yes," answered Frank, readily. "I have another twenty."

  "Let me see it."

  "Certainly. I should like to know whether that is bad too."

  The other twenty proved to be a fac-simile of the first.

  "I must know where you got this money," said the merchant. "You may bein the service of counterfeiters."

  "You might know, from my uniform, that I am not," said Frank,indignantly. "I once lost a place because I would not pass counterfeitmoney."

  "I have a detective here. You must lead him to the man who supplied youwith the money."

  "I am quite willing to do it," said our hero. "He wanted to make a toolof me. If I can put him into the hands of the law, I will."

  "That boy is all right," said a gentleman standing by. "The rogue wasquite ingenious in trying to work off his bad money through a telegraphmessenger."

  "What is the appearance of this man?" asked the detective as they walkedalong.

  "Rather a reddish face, and partly bald."

  "What is the color of the hair he has?"

  "Red."

  "Very good. It ought to be easy to know him by that description."

  "I should know him at once," said Frank, promptly.

  "If he has not changed his appearance. It is easy to do that, and thesefellows understand it well."

  Reaching the house, Frank rang the bell, the detective sauntering alongon the opposite side of the street.

  "Is Mr. Stanley at home?" asked Frank.

  "I will see."

  The girl came down directly, with the information that Mr. Stanley hadgone out.

  "That is queer," said Frank. "He told me to come right back. He said hehad a headache, too, and did not want to go out."

  As he spoke, his glance rested on a man who was lounging at the corner.This man had black hair, and a full black beard. By chance, Frank's eyefell upon his right hand, and with a start he recognized a large ringwith a sparkling diamond, real or imitation. This ring he had last seenon Mr. Stanley's hand. He crossed the street in a quiet, indifferentmanner, and imparted his suspicions to the detective.

  "Good!" said the latter; "you are a smart boy."

  He approached the man alluded to, who, confident in his disguise, didnot budge, and, placing his hand on his shoulder, said, "Mr. Stanley, Ibelieve."

  "You are mistaken," said the man, shrugging his shoulders in anonchalant way, with a foreign accent, "I am M. Lavalette. I do not knowyour M. Stanley."

  "I am afraid you are forgetful, monsieur. I beg pardon, but do you weara wig?" and with a quick movement he removed the stranger's hat, and,dislodging his black wig, displayed the rim of red hair.

  "This is an outrage!" said the rogue, angrily; "I will have youarrested, monsieur."

  "I will give you a chance, for here is an officer," said the detective.

  "I give this man in charge for passing counterfeit money," said thedetective. "The next time, Mr. Sta
nley, don't select so smart atelegraph boy. He recognized you, in spite of your disguise, by the ringupon your finger."

  The rogue angrily drew the ring from his finger, and threw it on thesidewalk.

  "Curse the ring!" he said. "It has betrayed me."

  It only remains to add that Stanley was convicted through Frank'stestimony. He proved to be an old offender, and the chief of a gang ofcounterfeiters.

  CHAPTER XVII.

  FRANK MEETS AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE.

  Frank was more fortunate than the generality of the telegraph boys inobtaining fees from those who employed him. He was not allowed tosolicit gifts, but was at liberty to accept them when offered. In oneway or another he found his weekly receipts came to about seven dollars.Out of this sum he would have been able to save money, even if he hadbeen obliged to pay all his expenses, that is by the exercise of stricteconomy. But, as we know, he was at no expense for room or board, withthe exception of a light lunch in the middle of the day. Making a littlecalculation, he found that he could save about four dollars a week. Asit had only been proposed to him to stay at Mrs. Vivian's while Fred wasin the country, it seemed prudent to Frank to "make hay while the sunshone," and save up a little fund from which he could hereafter draw, incase it were necessary.

  So when he had saved ten dollars he presented himself at the counter ofthe Dime Savings-Bank, then located in Canal street, and deposited it,receiving a bank-book, which he regarded with great pride.

  "I begin to feel like a capitalist," he said to himself. "I am ratherbetter off now than I was when I led round old Mills, the blind man. Iwonder how he is getting along."

  As Frank entered Broadway from Canal street, by a strange coincidence hecaught sight of the man of whom he had been thinking. Mills, with thesame querulous, irritable expression he knew well, was making his way upBroadway, led by a boy younger than Frank.

  "Pity a poor blind man!" he muttered from time to time in a whiningvoice.

  "Look out, you young rascal, or you will have me off the sidewalk,"Frank heard the blind man say; "I'll have a reckoning with you when Iget home."

  The boy, who was pale and slight, looked frightened.

  "I couldn't help it, Mr. Mills," he said. "It was the crowd."

  "You are getting careless, that's what's the matter," said Mills,harshly. "You are looking in at the shop windows, and neglect me."

  "No, I am not," said the boy, in meek remonstrance.

  "Don't you contradict me!" exclaimed the blind man, grasping his sticksignificantly. "Pity a poor blind man!"

  "What an old brute he is!" thought Frank; "I will speak to him."

  "How do you do, Mr. Mills?" he said, halting before the blind man.

  "Who are you?" demanded Mills, quickly.

  "You ought to know me; I am Frank Kavanagh, who used to go round withyou."

  "I have had so many boys--most of them good for nothing--that I don'tremember you."

  "I am the boy who wouldn't pass counterfeit money for you."

  "Hush!" said the blind man apprehensively, lest some one should hearFrank. "There was some mistake about that. I remember you now. Do youwant to come back? This boy doesn't attend to his business."

  Frank laughed. Situated as he was now, the proposal seemed to him anexcellent joke, and he was disposed to treat it as such.

  "Why, the fact is, Mr. Mills, you fed me on such rich food that Ishouldn't dare to go back for fear of dyspepsia."

  "Or starvation," he added to himself.

  "I live better now," said Mills. "I haven't had any boy since, thatsuited me as well as you."

  "Thank you; but I am afraid it would be a long time before I got rich onthe wages you would give me."

  "I'll give you fifty cents a week," said Mills, "and more if I do well.You can come to-day, if you like."

  "You are very kind, but I am doing better than that," said Frank.

  "What are you doing,--selling papers?"

  "No; I have given that up. I am a telegraph boy."

  "How much do you make?"

  "Seven dollars last week."

  "Why, you will be rich," said the blind man, enviously. "I don't think Iget as much as that myself, and I have to pay a boy out of it."

  His poor guide did not have the appearance of being very liberally paid.

  "Then you won't come back?" said Mills, querulously.

  "No, I guess not."

  "Come along, boy!" said Mills, roughly, to his little guide. "Are yougoing to keep me here all day?"

  "I thought you wanted to speak to this boy."

  "Well, I have got through. He has deserted me. It is the way of theworld. There's nobody to pity the poor, blind man."

  "Here's five cents for old acquaintance' sake. Mr. Mills," said Frank,dropping a nickel into the hand of the boy who was guiding him.

  "Thank you! May you never know what it is to be blind!" said Mills, inhis professional tone.

  "If I am, I hope I can see as well as you," thought Frank. "What aprecious old humbug he is, and how I pity that poor boy! If I had achance I would give him something to save him from starvation."

  Frank walked on, quite elated at the change in his circumstances whichallowed him to give money in charity to the person who had once been hisemployer. He would have given it more cheerfully if in his estimationthe man had been more worthy.

  Frank's errand took him up Broadway. He had two or three stops to make,which made it inconvenient for him to ride. A little way in front of himhe saw a boy of fourteen, whom he recognized as an errand-boy, and aformer fellow-lodger at the Newsboy's Lodging-House. He was about tohurry forward and join John Riley,--for this was the boy's name,--whenhis attention was attracted, and his suspicions aroused, by a man whoaccosted John. He was a man of about thirty, rather showily dressed,with a gold chain dangling from his vest.

  "Johnny," he said, addressing the errand-boy "do you want to earn tencents?"

  "I should like to," answered the boy, "but I am going on an errand, andcan't spare the time."

  "It won't take five minutes," said the young man. "It is only to takethis note up to Mr. Conant's room, on the fourth floor of thisbuilding."

  They were standing in front of a high building occupied as offices.

  The boy hesitated.

  "Is there an answer?" he asked.

  "No; you can come right down as soon as the letter is delivered."

  "I suppose I could spare the time for that," said John Riley.

  "Of course you can. It won't take you two minutes. Here is the tencents. I'll hold your bundle for you while you run up."

  "All right!" said the errand-boy, and, suspecting nothing, hesurrendered his parcel, and taking the note and the dime, ran upstairs.

  No sooner was he out of sight than the young man began to walk offrapidly with the bundle. It was an old trick, that has been many timesplayed upon unsuspecting boys, and will continue to be played as long asthere are knavish adventurers who prefer dishonest methods of getting aliving to honest industry.

  In this case, however, the rogue was destined to disappointment. It maybe stated that he had been present in the dry-goods store from which theparcel came, and, knowing that the contents were valuable, had followedthe boy.

  No sooner did Frank understand the fellow's purpose than he pursued him,and seized him by the arm.

  "What do you want of me?" demanded the rogue, roughly. "I am in a hurryand can't be detained."

  "I want you to give me that bundle which you are trying to steal from myfriend, John Riley."

  The rogue's countenance changed.

  "What do you mean?" he demanded, to gain time.

  "I mean that I heard your conversation with him, and I know your game.Come back, or I will call a policeman."

  The young man was sharp enough to see that he must give up his purpose.

  "There, take the bundle," he said, tossing it into Frank's arms. "I wasonly going for a cigar; I should have brought it back."

  When John Riley came downs
tairs, with the letter in his hand,--for hehad been unable to find any man named Conant in the building,--he foundFrank waiting with the parcel.

  "Holloa, Frank! Where's that man that sent me upstairs? I can't find Mr.Conant."

  "Of course you can't. There's no such man in the building. That man wasa thief; but for me he would have carried off your bundle."

  "What a fool I was!" said the errand-boy. "I won't let myself be fooledagain."

  "Don't give up a bundle to a stranger again," said Frank. "I'm only acountry boy, but I don't allow myself to be swindled as easily as you."

  "I wish that chap would come here again," said Johnny, indignantly. "ButI've come out best, after all," he added, brightening up. "I've made tencents out of him."

  CHAPTER XVIII.

  A RICH WOMAN'S SORROW.

  One day Frank was summoned to a handsome residence on Madison avenue.

  "Sit down in the parlor," said the servant "and I will call Mrs.Graham."

  As Frank looked around him, and noted the evidences of wealth in theelegant furniture and rich ornaments profusely scattered about, hethought, "How rich Mrs. Graham must be! I suppose she is very happy. Ishould be if I could buy everything I wanted."