Driven From Home

by Horatio Alger, Jr.

  “And you will be guided by his report?”

  “Probably.”

  “Aunt Rachel, you are certainly very eccentric.”

  “I may be, but I am not often deceived.”

  “Well, I hope you won't be this time. The boy seems to me a very good boy, but you can't put an old head on young shoulders.”

  “Some boys have more sense than men twice their age.”

  “You don't mean me, I hope, Aunt Rachel,” said Mr. Norris, smiling.

  “Indeed, I don't. I shall not flatter you by speaking of you as only twice this boy's age.”

  “I see, Aunt Rachel, there is no getting the better of you.”

  Meanwhile Carl was making business calls. He obtained a map of the city, and located the different firms on which he proposed to call. He had been furnished with a list by Mr. Jennings. He was everywhere pleasantly received --in some places with an expression of surprise at his youth--but when he began to talk he proved to be so well informed upon the subject of his call that any prejudice excited by his age quickly vanished. He had the satisfaction of securing several unexpectedly large orders for the chair, and transmitting them to Mr. Jennings by the afternoon mail.

  He got through his business at four o'clock, and rested for an hour or more at his hotel. Then he arranged his toilet, and set out for the residence of Miss Rachel Norris.

  It was rather a prim-looking, three-story house, such as might be supposed to belong to a maiden lady. He was ushered into a sitting- room on the second floor, where Miss Norris soon joined him.

  “I am glad to see you, my young friend,” she said, cordially. “You are in time.”

  “I always try to be, Miss Norris.”

  “It is a good way to begin.”

  Here a bell rang.

  “Supper is ready,” she said. “Follow me downstairs.”

  Carl followed the old lady to the rear room on the lower floor. A small table was set in the center of the apartment.

  “Take a seat opposite me,” said Miss Norris.

  There were two other chairs, one on each side--Carl wondered for whom they were set. No sooner were he and Miss Norris seated than two large cats approached the table, and jumped up, one into each chair. Carl looked to see them ordered away, but instead, Miss Norris nodded pleasantly, saying: “That's right, Jane and Molly, you are punctual at meals.”

  The two cats eyed their mistress gravely, and began to purr contentedly.

  CHAPTER XXXI.

  CARL TAKES SUPPER WITH MISS NORRIS.

  “THIS is my family,” said Miss Norris, pointing to the cats.

  “I like cats,” said Carl.

  “Do you?” returned Miss Norris, looking pleased. “Most boys tease them. Do you see poor Molly's ear? That wound came from a stone thrown by a bad boy.”

  “Many boys are cruel,” said Carl, “but I remember that my mother was very fond of cats, and I have always protected them from abuse.”

  As he spoke he stroked Molly, who purred an acknowledgment of his attention. This completed the conquest of Miss Norris, who inwardly decided that Carl was the finest boy she had ever met. After she had served Carl from the dishes on the table, she poured out two saucers of milk and set one before each cat, who, rising upon her hind legs, placed her forepaws on the table, and gravely partook of the refreshments provided. Jane and Molly were afterwards regaled with cold meat, and then, stretching themselves out on their chairs, closed their eyes in placid content.

  During the meal Miss Norris questioned Carl closely as to his home experiences. Having no reason for concealment Carl frankly related his troubles with his stepmother, eliciting expressions of sympathy and approval from his hostess.

  “Your stepmother must be an ugly creature?” she said.

  “I am afraid I am prejudiced against her,” said Carl, “but that is my opinion.”

  “Your father must be very weak to be influenced against his own son by such a woman.”

  Carl winced a little at this outspoken criticism, for he was attached to his father in spite of his unjust treatment.

  “My father is an invalid,” he said, apologetically, “and I think he yielded for the sake of peace.”

  “All the same, he ought not to do it,” said Miss Norris. “Do you ever expect to live at home again?”

  “Not while my stepmother is there,” answered Carl. “But I don't know that I should care to do so under any circumstances, as I am now receiving a business training. I should like to make a little visit home,” he added, thoughtfully, “and perhaps I may do so after I return from Chicago. I shall have no favors to ask, and shall feel independent.”

  “If you ever need a home,” said Miss Norris, abruptly, “come here. You will be welcome.”

  “Thank you very much,” said Carl, gratefully. “It is all the more kind in you since you have known me so short a time.”

  “I have known you long enough to judge of you,” said the maiden lady. “And now if you won't have anything more we will go into the next room and talk business.”

  Carl followed her into the adjoining room, and Miss Norris at once plunged into the subject. She handed him a business card bearing this inscription:

  JOHN FRENCH,

  BOOTS, SHOES AND RUBBER GOODS,

  42a State Street,

  CHICAGO.

  “This young man wants me to lend him two thousand dollars to extend his business,” she said. “He is the son of an old school friend, and I am willing to oblige him if he is a sober, steady and economical business man. I want you to find out whether this is the case and report to me.”

  “Won't that be difficult?” asked Carl.

  “Are you afraid to undertake anything that is difficult?”

  “No,” answered Carl, with a smile. “I was only afraid I might not do the work satisfactorily.”

  “I shall give you no instructions,” said Miss Norris. “I shall trust to your good judgment. I will give you a letter to Mr. French, which you can use or not, as you think wise. Of course, I shall see that you are paid for your trouble.”

  “Thank you,” said Carl. “I hope my services may be worth compensation.”

  “I don't know how you are situated as to money, but I can give you some in advance,” and the old lady opened her pocketbook.

  “No, thank you, Miss Norris; I shall not need it. I might have been short if you had not kindly paid me a reward for a slight service.”

  “Slight, indeed! If you had lost a bank book like mine you would be glad to get it back at such a price. If you will catch the rascal who stole it I will gladly pay you as much more.”

  “I wish I might for my own sake, but I am afraid it would be too late to recover my money and clothing.”

  At an early hour Carl left the house, promising to write to Miss Norris from Chicago.

  CHAPTER XXXII.

  A STARTLING DISCOVERY.

  “WELL,” thought Carl, as he left the house where he had been so hospitably entertained, “I shall not lack for business. Miss Norris seems to have a great deal of confidence in me, considering that I am a stranger. I will take care that she does not repent it.”

  “Can you give a poor man enough money to buy a cheap meal?” asked a plaintive voice.

  Carl scanned the applicant for charity closely. He was a man of medium size, with a pair of small eyes, and a turnup nose. His dress was extremely shabby, and he had the appearance of one who was on bad terms with fortune. There was nothing striking about his appearance, yet Carl regarded him with surprise and wonder. Despite the difference in age, he bore a remarkable resemblance to his stepbrother, Peter Cook.

  “I haven't eaten anything for twenty-four hours,” continued the tramp, as he may properly be called. “It's a hard world to such as me, boy.”

  “I should judge so from your looks,” answered Carl.

  “Indeed you are right. I was born to ill luck.”

  Carl had some doubts about this. Those who represent themselves as born to ill luc
k can usually trace the ill luck to errors or shortcomings of their own. There are doubtless inequalities of fortune, but not as great as many like to represent. Of two boys who start alike one may succeed, and the other fail, but in nine cases out of ten the success or failure may be traced to a difference in the qualities of the boys.

  “Here is a quarter if that will do you any good,” said Carl.

  The man clutched at it with avidity.

  “Thank you. This will buy me a cup of coffee and a plate of meat, and will put new life into me.”

  He was about to hurry away, but Carl felt like questioning him further. The extraordinary resemblance between this man and his stepbrother led him to think it possible that there might be a relationship between them. Of his stepmother's family he knew little or nothing. His father had married her on short acquaintance, and she was very reticent about her former life. His father was indolent, and had not troubled himself to make inquiries. He took her on her own representation as the widow of a merchant who had failed in business.

  On the impulse of the moment--an impulse which he could not explain--Carl asked abruptly--“Is your name Cook?”

  A look of surprise, almost of stupefaction, appeared on the man's face.

  “Who told you my name?” he asked.

  “Then your name is Cook?”

  “What is your object in asking?” said the man, suspiciously.

  “I mean you no harm,” returned Carl, “but I have reasons for asking.”

  “Did you ever see me before?” asked the man.

  “No.”

  “Then what makes you think my name is Cook? It is not written on my face, is it?”

  “No.”

  “Then how----”

  Carl interrupted him.

  “I know a boy named Peter Cook,” he said, “who resembles you very strongly.”

  “You know Peter Cook--little Peter?” exclaimed the tramp.

  “Yes. Is he a relation of yours?”

  “I should think so!” responded Cook, emphatically. “He is my own son--that is, if he is a boy of about your age.”

  “Yes.”

  “Where is he? Is his mother alive?”

  “Your wife!” exclaimed Carl, overwhelmed at the thought.

  “She was my wife!” said Cook, “but while I was in California, some years since, she took possession of my small property, procured a divorce through an unprincipled lawyer, and I returned to find myself without wife, child or money. Wasn't that a mean trick?”

  “I think it was.”

  “Can you tell me where she is?” asked Cook, eagerly.

  “Yes, I can.”

  “Where can I find my wife?” asked Cook, with much eagerness.

  Carl hesitated. He did not like his stepmother; he felt that she had treated him meanly, but he was not prepared to reveal her present residence till he knew what course Cook intended to pursue.

  “She is married again,” he said, watching Cook to see what effect this announcement might have upon him.

  “I have no objection, I am sure,” responded Cook, indifferently. “Did she marry well?”

  “She married a man in good circumstances.”

  “She would take good care of that.”

  “Then you don't intend to reclaim her?”

  “How can I? She obtained a divorce, though by false representations. I am glad to be rid of her, but I want her to restore the two thousand dollars of which she robbed me. I left my property in her hands, but when she ceased to be my wife she had no right to take possession of it. I ought not to be surprised, however. It wasn't the first theft she had committed.”

  “Can this be true?” asked Carl, excited.

  “Yes, I married her without knowing much of her antecedents. Two years after marriage I ascertained that she had served a year's term of imprisonment for a theft of jewelry from a lady with whom she was living as housekeeper.”

  “Are you sure of this?”

  “Certainly. She was recognized by a friend of mine, who had been an official at the prison. When taxed with it by me she admitted it, but claimed that she was innocent. I succeeded in finding a narrative of the trial in an old file of papers, and came to the conclusion that she was justly convicted.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I proposed separation, but she begged me to keep the thing secret, and let ourselves remain the same as before. I agreed out of consideration for her, but had occasion to regret it. My business becoming slack, I decided to go to California in the hope of acquiring a competence. I was not fortunate there, and was barely able, after a year, to get home. I found that my wife had procured a divorce, and appropriated the little money I had left. Where she had gone, or where she had conveyed our son, I could not learn. You say you know where she is.”

  “I do.”

  “Will you tell me?”

  “Mr. Cook,” said Carl, after a pause for reflection, “I will tell you, but not just at present. I am on my way to Chicago on business. On my return I will stop here, and take you with me to the present home of your former wife. You will understand my interest in the matter when I tell you that she is now married to a relative of my own.”

  “I pity him whoever he is,” said Cook.

  “Yes, I think he is to be pitied,” said Carl, gravely; “but the revelation you will be able to make will enable him to insist upon a separation.”

  “The best thing he can do! How long before you return to Albany?”

  “A week or ten days.”

  “I don't know how I am to live in the meantime,” said Cook, anxiously. “I am penniless, but for the money you have just given me.”

  “At what price can you obtain board?”

  “I know of a decent house where I can obtain board and a small room for five dollars a week.”

  “Here are twelve dollars. This will pay for two weeks' board, and give you a small sum besides. What is the address?”

  Cook mentioned a number on a street by the river.

  Carl took it down in a notebook with which he had provided himself.

  “When I return to Albany,” he said, “I will call there at once.”

  “You won't forget me?”

  “No; I shall be even more anxious to meet you than you will be to meet me. The one to whom your former wife is married is very near and dear to me, and I cannot bear to think that he has been so wronged and imposed upon!”

  “Very well, sir! I shall wait for you with confidence. If I can get back from my former wife the money she robbed me of, I can get on my feet again, and take a respectable position in society. It is very hard for a man dressed as I am to obtain any employment.”

  Looking at his shabby and ragged suit, Carl could readily believe this statement. If he had wished to employ anyone he would hardly have been tempted to engage a man so discreditable in appearance. “Be of good courage, Mr. Cook,” he said, kindly. “If your story is correct, and I believe it is, there are better days in store for you.”

  “Thank you for those words,” said Cook, earnestly. “They give me new hope.”

  CHAPTER XXXIII.

  FROM ALBANY TO NIAGARA.

  CARL took the afternoon train on the following day for Buffalo. His thoughts were busy with the startling discovery he had made in regard to his stepmother. Though he had never liked her, he had been far from imagining that she was under the ban of the law. It made him angry to think that his father had been drawn into a marriage with such a woman--that the place of his idolized mother had been taken by one who had served a term at Sing Sing.

  Did Peter know of his mother's past disgrace? he asked himself. Probably not, for it had come before his birth. He only wondered that the secret had never got out before. There must be many persons who had known her as a prisoner, and could identify her now. She had certainly been fortunate with the fear of discovery always haunting her. Carl could not understand how she could carry her head so high, and attempt to tyrannize over his father and himself.


  What the result would be when Dr. Crawford learned the antecedents of the woman whom he called wife Carl did not for a moment doubt. His father was a man of very strict ideas on the subject of honor, and good repute, and the discovery would lead him to turn from Mrs. Crawford in abhorrence. Moreover, he was strongly opposed to divorce, and Carl had heard him argue that a divorced person should not be permitted to remarry. Yet in ignorance he had married a divorced woman, who had been convicted of theft, and served a term of imprisonment. The discovery would be a great shock to him, and it would lead to a separation and restore the cordial relations between himself and his son.

  Not long after his settlement in Milford; Carl had written as follows to his father:

  “DEAR FATHER:--Though I felt obliged to leave home for reasons which we both understand, I am sure that you will feel interested to know how I am getting along. I did not realize till I had started out how difficult it is for a boy, brought up like myself, to support himself when thrown upon his own exertions. A newsboy can generally earn enough money to maintain himself in the style to which he is accustomed, but I have had a comfortable and even luxurious home, and could hardly bring myself to live in a tenement house, or a very cheap boarding place. Yet I would rather do either than stay in a home made unpleasant by the persistent hostility of one member.

  “I will not take up your time by relating the incidents of the first two days after I left home. I came near getting into serious trouble through no fault of my own, but happily escaped. When I was nearly penniless I fell in with a prosperous manufacturer of furniture who has taken me into his employment. He gives me a home in his own house, and pays me two dollars a week besides. This is enough to support me economically, and I shall after a while receive better pay.

  “I am not in the office, but in the factory, and am learning the business practically, starting in at the bottom. I think I have a taste for it, and the superintendent tells me I am making remarkable progress. The time was when I would have hesitated to become a working boy, but I have quite got over such foolishness. Mr. Jennings, my employer, who is considered a rich man, began as I did, and I hope some day to occupy a position similar to his.