CHAPTER V
A HORNET'S NEST
Dennis awoke greatly refreshed and strengthened. For half an hour helay quietly thinking over the scenes of the preceding day; somethingof his old anger returned, but he compressed his lips, and, with aface expressing the most resolute purpose, determined that the daybefore him should tell a different story. Every faculty and energy hepossessed should be skilfully bent to the attainment of his objects.Wise deliberation should precede everything. He would write a few linesto his mother, decide as to a lodging-place, and then seek bettersuccess in another part of the city. He went to the bar and inquiredas to his bill, and found that so far as bed and meals were concerned,such as they were, he could not find anything cheaper in the city, thehouse evidently not depending on these for its revenue. Disgusted ashe was with his surroundings, he resolved to lose no time in lookingfor a new boarding-place, but, after writing to his mother, to startoff at once in search of something permanent. He was in no mood toconsult personal wishes, and the saving of time and money settled thequestion.
Where should he write? There was no place save a desk at the end ofthe bar. Looking askance at the half-filled, villanous-smelling bottleat his elbow, he wrote in a hand stiff and unnatural (for he hadresolved to change his scrawl to a business hand at once), the followingnote:
"CHICAGO, ILL., Jan. 10th.
"DEAR MOTHER--I arrived safely, and am very well. I did not, yesterday,find a situation suited to my taste, but expect better success to-day.I am just on the point of starting out on my search, and when settledwill write you full particulars. Many kisses for yourself and thelittle girls. Your affectionate son, DENNIS."
"There! there is nothing in that to worry mother, and soon I shallhave good news for her." (If he had seen its reception, he would havelearned his mistake. The intuitions of love are keen, and this formalnegative note in the constrained hand told more of his disappointmentthan any words could have done. While he knew it not, his mother wassuffering with him. In reply she wrote a letter full of generalsympathy, intending to be more specific when he gave her hisconfidence.)
Dennis folded the letter most carefully and mailed it--for he was nowdoing the least thing with the utmost precision--with the air of onewho meant to find out the right thing to do, and then to do it to ahair-breadth. Nothing should go wrong that day. So at an early hourhe again sallied forth.
Not far from the hotel there was a new grocery store about to be openedby two young men, formerly clerks, but now setting up for themselves.They stood at the door receiving a cart-load of goods as Dennisapproached. He had made up his mind to ask at every opportunity, andto take the first thing that promised fairly; he would also be verypolite. Touching his hat to the young men--a little act pleasing tothem in their newly acquired dignity as heads of a firm which as yethad no subordinates--Dennis asked if they would need any assistance.Graciously replying to his salutations, they answered, yes; they wanteda young man.
Dennis explained that he was from the country, and showed theministerial letter. The young grocers looked wise over it, seemedpleased, said they wanted a young fellow from the country, that wasnot up to city tricks. Chicago was a hard place on young men--spoiledmost of them. Glad he was a member of the church. They were not, butbelieved a man must be mighty good to be one. As the young man theyhired must sleep in the store, they wanted one they could trust, andwould prefer a church member.
The salary they offered was not large, but pretty fair in view of hishaving so much to learn, and it was intimated, that if business wasgood, and he suited, it would be increased. The point uppermost intheir minds was to find some one with whom they could trust their storeand goods, and this young man from the country, with a letter from aminister, seemed a godsend.
They engaged him, but just as he was starting, with heart swellingwith self-satisfaction and joy, one of the firm asked, carelessly,"Where are you staying?'"
"At Gavin's Hotel."
The man turned sharply, and looked most suspiciously at him, and thenat his partner, who gave a low whistle of surprise, and also eyed theyoung man for a moment askance. Then the men stepped aside, and therewas a brief whispered consultation. Dennis's heart sank within him.He saw that something was wrong, but what, he had not the least idea.The elder member of the embryo firm now stepped up and said, decidedly,"Good-morning, young man; we shall not need your services."
"What do you mean?" cried Dennis, in a voice of mingled dismay andindignation.
The man's face was growing red with anger, but he said, coldly, "Youhad better move on. _We_ understand."
"But _I_ don't understand, your course toward me is most unjust."
"Look here, young man, we are too old birds to be caught by any suchlight chaff as you have about you. You are a pretty church member, youare! You are a smart one, you are; nice boy, just from the country;suppose you do not know that Gavin's Hotel is the worst gambling holein the city, and every other man that goes there a known thief. Come,you had better move on if you do not want to get into trouble. Youwill make nothing here."
"But I tell you, gentlemen--" cried Dennis, eagerly.
"_You_ may tell what you please. _We_ tell you that we would not believeany one from that den under oath. Now you leave!"
The last words were loud and threatening. The attention of passers-bywas drawn toward them, and Dennis saw that further words were useless.In the minds of shrewd but narrow business men, not over-honestthemselves, more acquainted with the trickery of the world than withits virtues, suspicion against any one is fatal, and most assuredlyso against a stranger with appearances unfavorable.
With heart wellnigh bursting with anger, disappointment, and shame,Dennis hastened away. He had been regarded as a thief, or at best ablackleg, seeking the position for some sinister purpose. This was theopening scene of the day on which he had determined that no mistakesshould be made, and here at the outset he had allowed himself to beidentified with a place of notorious ill-repute.
Reaching the hotel, he rushed upstairs, got his trunk, and then turnedfiercely on the red-nosed bartender-"Why did you not tell me thecharacter of this place?"
"What kind of a place is it?" asked that functionary, coolly, armsakimbo.
"You know well enough. You knew I was not one of your sort."
"You don't mean to say that this is a bad place, do you?" said thebarkeeper, in mock solemnity.
"Yes, the worst in Chicago. There is your money."
"Hold on here, my small chicken; there is some money, but not enoughby a jugful. I want five dollars out of you before you take that trunkoff."
"Why, this is sheer robbery," exclaimed Dennis.
"Oh, no; just keeping up the reputation of the house. You say it isthe worst in Chicago: must try and keep up our reputation."
"Little fear of that; I will not pay it;" and Dennis started for histrunk.
"Here, let that trunk alone; and if yer don't give me that five dollarscussed quick, I'll put a head on yer;" and he of the red nose put hishands on the bar in readiness to spring over.
"I say, young feller," said a good-natured loafer standing by, "youhad better gin him the five dollars; for Barney is the worst one inall Chicago to put a head on a man."
"And will you stand by and see this outrage?" said Dennis, appealingto him.
"Oh, gosh!" said the man, "I've got quarrels 'nough of my own withoutgetting my head broke for fellers I don't know."
Dennis was almost speechless from indignation. Conscious of strength,his strong impulse for a moment was to spring at the throat of thebarkeeper and vent his rage on him. There is a latent tiger in everyman. But a hand seemed to hold him back, and a sober second thoughtcame over him. What! Dennis Fleet, the son of Ethel Fleet, brawling,fighting in a bar-room, a gambling-den, and going out to seek asituation that required confidence and fair-appearing, all blackened,bruised, and bleeding! As the truth flashed upon him in strong revulsionof feeling he fairly turned pale and sick.
"There's the money," sai
d he, hoarsely, "and God forgive you."
In a moment he had taken his trunk and was gone. The barkeeper staredafter him, and then looked at the money with a troubled and perplexedface.
"Wal," said he, "I'm used enough to havin' folk ask God to damn me,but I'm blessed if I ever had one ask Him to forgive me, before. I behanged," said he, after a moment, as the thought grew upon him--"Ibe hanged if I wouldn't give him back the money if he hadn't gone soquick."
With heart full of shame and bitterness, Dennis hastened down thestreet. At the corner he met a policeman, and told him his story. Allthe satisfaction he got was, "You ought not to go to such a place. Butyou're lucky if they only took five dollars from you; they don'tlet off many as easy as that."
"Can I have no redress?"
"Now look here; it's a pretty ticklish thing to interfere with themfellers. It'll cost you plaguy sight more'n that, and blood, too, likeenough. If you'll take my advice, you won't stir up that hornet'snest."
Barriers Burned Away Page 6
